Thomas and Friends: The Ballad of Dominic
by The Nerdinator
Summary: When Billy is assigned to be the new parts fetcher for the Dieselworks, he seizes the chance to find out what makes the gruff, reclusive Diesel Ten tick. Meanwhile, Rosie, Thomas, and Emily discover the coach responsible for giving machines life, but a railway inspector from America is coming to wipe out living engines once and for all.
1. Prologue

_A summer's night, 1806_

The Island of Sodor, a small island off the coast of England, slept.

So deep in sleep were the people of the island that no one noticed a series of small explosions high above them.

Then the last and biggest explosion roared, and an unnatural blue-green light streaked through the sky, hitting the island where one day a certain tram would make his home.

* * *

The next day, workmen were scavenging the area. A railway was being built on Sodor, and they needed metal for engines and their cars.

"Hey guys!" one called to the others. "Look what I found! A pile of metal that we don't even have to mine!"

His coworkers came and saw a pile of metal, lying in a smoking crater. There had been more, but most of it had burned up in the fall.

"Do you think we can make an engine out of this?" another asked.

"I don't think there's enough for an engine," the first replied, "but I think we can make a coach out of what we have."

* * *

Eventually, they finished. It was a simple design, a box with glass windows, but it felt sturdy enough.

One workman was mixing up white paint to paint the coach. He needed some sand to get the texture right, but he was running out of his normal sand. Luckily, he found some (which, oddly, was a light pinkish-purple color) and mixed it in.

He painted the front with the paint, and he was going to pain the rest when something happened.

The front of the coach erupted in a flash of light. The workman didn't notice it, but it generated a wave of light that spread across the globe. He shut his eyes to brace for what he thought was an explosion.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that the coach...had a face. The white part had been turned into a face, with soft light gray skin, and wise eyes.

The coach looked at her unwitting creator.

"Hello," she said.

The workmen were completely surprised that a machine had come alive. Little did they know she wouldn't be the last.


	2. Dockside Deception

_215 years, 8 months, 3 days later...  
_

 _Spring 2022_

A bird sat on a tree branch and began to preen itself. A rumbling noise interrupted its peace, causing it to almost fall out of its tree.

Said noise came from a BR Class E2 tank engine with extended side tanks. The azure engine, a large yellow 1 painted on his tanks, chugged down the track in a hurry, a look of determination on his face. This engine was Thomas, and while he wasn't Sodor's biggest engine, nor its fastest, strongest, or oldest, he was wheels down the most famous engine on the island. And right now, he was running out of time.

The reason why popped up soon after. A few feet ahead of him was a cherry red US Class SR tank engine. An American model (unlike the very British Thomas), this female engine was also chugging along at a high speed. Named Rosie, she was one of the newer engines on Sodor's railway; and although Thomas hadn't liked her much at first, he'd eventually warmed up to her, and he had missed her greatly during her overhaul.

Eventually, Rosie braked, screeching to a stop. "I win," she said smugly.

"Aw, no fair! You had more coal in your bunker," Thomas complained, yet he was still smiling nonetheless.

"Hey, you won our last race to the docks, it's only fair that I won one. Now let's get to work."

"Couldn't agree more, Rose."

Rosie blushed a little at Thomas' nickname for her. She eventually put those thoughts out of her mind and rolled into the docks.

"Ahoy, mateys!" Salty called. "Who won ye race this time?"

"I did," Rosie beamed.

"Well, it's not exactly the safest place to race out here," Porter said. "I don't want either of you getting hurt. Especially you, Thomas - you've got a train to take to the Steamworks."

"So why's Rosie here?" Cranky grunted from above.

"Sir Topham Hatt has officially made me the welcoming committee," Rosie explained. "He wants me to greet any new engine who comes to the island, and give them their jobs."

"Why you?"

"One, he's too busy now to do it himself. Two, I've apparently got a much better memory than I'd realized."

"She's right," Thomas said. "She remembers every little change to her build she's had since arriving here."

Porter chuckled. Then his expression changed. "Wait. There are new engines coming?"

"They're not new, per se," Rosie replied. "But Murdoch's coming back from The Golden Railway, along with his apprentices."

"Aye," Salty said, smiling. "It'll be good to see Murdoch again."

Porter shunted a train full of crates up to Thomas' behind. As Thomas was being coupled up, a boat arrived and joined up to a set of tracks. The doors opened, and an amber BR 9F tender engine puffed out of the boat, followed by a dark green Class 17 diesel and a bright orange Manning Wardle L Class tank engine. Murdoch, along with his apprentices Derek and Billy, had returned. Derek was pulling an unusually large red boxcar behind him.

"Hey Murdoch!" Rosie chirped. "Welcome back! How was The Golden?"

"Thanks, Rosie," Murdoch replied, "and it's a lot worse than it's made out to be."

"Worse?" Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow. "But it's the most famous railway in the world! Besides this one, of course."

"They never let you sleep there," Murdoch said grimly. "You have two sets of drivers - one for the day, one for the night. And the noise! It was terrible."

"What's the big deal about noise?" Porter asked innocently.

"Murdoch has very sensitive hearing," Thomas explained. "It's very easy to overwhelm him with loud sounds."

"Ah."

"It's not _all_ bad, though," Derek said, being more optimistic than Murdoch. "I got a complete overhaul of my engine and my cooling system. Now I can go up hills just as well as anyone else."

"I admit, we have to give them credit for that," Murdoch smiled.

Thomas noticed Billy was with them. "Hey Billy, do you still think I'm a bossy engine?" he asked cheekily.

"Ha ha," Billy deadpanned. "But no, I don't. The Golden taught me how to be patient. Can't say the same for the humans, though."

Thomas grinned. "It's good to have you back, Billy."

"It's good to _be_ back," Billy smiled, sighing happily. "I can finally prove to everyone that I'm no longer that silly little engine I once was."

"Has anyone told you how much you look like Charlie?" Porter asked.

"Who?"

"This guy who looks just like you, only purple."

"Oh, _that_ Charlie. Unfortunately, I do. He's my brother. The bright colors are so our owner could tell us apart, in case you were wondering."

"Charlie?" Derek asked. He'd left Sodor long before Charlie had arrived.

"An engine of my class who can _never. Take. Anything. Seriously._ " Billy groaned. "Hopefully, I won't have to work with him."

"Speaking of which," Rosie said, "here are your jobs." She cleared her nonexistent throat. "Murdoch, you are resuming the jobs you had before leaving. Derek, you're going to the quarry at Ffarquhar. And Billy, you have a very special job. You're the new parts fetcher for the Dieselworks. Essentially, when a new shipment of parts for diesels comes, you're going to fetch it."

"Can't the diesels do it themselves?" Cranky asked.

"Not anymore," Thomas replied. "There's so much work now that Den and Dart can't leave the Dieselworks to get the parts. This is a big responsibility, Billy. Can you do it?"

"Yes. I can," Billy said confidently.

"Good to hear," Thomas said. He whistled goodbye and headed off to the Steamworks. Rosie left too, because she was done welcoming the engines.

"Say, what be in your van, Derek?" Salty asked.

"My old engine," Derek said, hesitating a little. "I thought Den and Dart might like to have it, y'know, like a hunting trophy or something."

Salty laughed. "They would like a rare treasure such as your engine." His driver whispered something to him. "Excuse me, lad, but I seem to be low on fuel, so I'd better go fill up."

"I'll help you there in case you need a push," Porter said. "So long, chaps. Take care." And he and Salty left.

"Finally, some peace," Cranky muttered, before closing his eyes and taking a much-needed nap.

"Are we clear?" Billy asked, whispering.

Using his super-sensitive hearing, Murdoch listened for any activity before saying, "Not a soul is around."

Billy quietly snuck onto the boat and came back pulling a smaller red boxcar - the one which actually contained Derek's old engine. "How you doing in there, Lady?" he said quietly to Derek's boxcar.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," came a feminine, American-accented voice from inside the car. "You guys didn't have to do this."

"Oh no, we did," Derek said. "You're our friend and you don't deserve to be kept from your job by a horde of loony fans."

"I guess you're right," Lady sighed. "I just wanted to be normal, and I end up in this mess."

"And you will be normal once again. Now that Bertram's passed away, you'll be able to take his job in the quarry. Let's go." With that, Derek trundled off, the boxcar in tow.

"And I'm going to the Dieselworks!" Billy exclaimed, quickly puffing forward.

"The Dieselworks is the other way," Murdoch said.

Billy sheepishly chugged backwards.

* * *

 **So Lady has been smuggled onto Sodor. Billy is going to be working at the Dieselworks, the lair of the fearsome Diesel Ten.**

 **What will Diesel Ten's reaction be when he learns he has to work with a steam engine? Will Lady be found out, and is she actually magical or is she just a normal engine? And what is The Golden Railway, anyway?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - Billy and the Diesels!**


	3. Billy and the Diesels

Billy rolled into a particularly dry section of Vicarstown. The Dieselworks stood forbodingly ahead.

"Place could use a few trees," Billy remarked. "Hello? Anyone here?"

A dark green Class 8 shunter pulled out of the Dieselworks and up to Billy. "Hello there!" he said cheerfully. He seemed like a friendly soul. "My name's Paxton. And judging by your nameplate, I'd say yours is Billy."

"Hello, Paxton," Billy replied. "Do you know who I'm supposed to speak to? I've got a new job here, you see, and I need to know who to report to."

"You'd best want Den and Dart. I'll introduce them to you, if you'd like."

"I would. Thanks."

Paxton began to roll backwards. Billy followed, but braked to a stop when he saw a very large shed away from the other Dieselworks sheds. It appeared to be occupied, for the windows were dark.

"Who lives there?" Billy asked.

Paxton stopped and saw what Billy was talking about. "Oh, that's Diesel Ten's shed. He's our leader, more or less. A little devious sometimes, but he means well. He only wants steam and diesel engines to be treated equally."

Billy had heard bad things about Diesel Ten on The Golden Railway, so this came as a shock. "He has a point," he said finally. "Your repair place isn't nearly as pristine as the Steamworks is."

"And this is the _new_ one," Paxton added. "Back to Diesel Ten. He spends a lot of time moping about in his shed for some reason, and rarely comes out. We're all worried about him, but he refuses to tell us why he's so upset."

"I hate leaving questions unanswered by nature," Billy grumbled. "But Diesel Ten's got a right to his privacy, plus he scares the jeebers out of me. Anyway, let's go. Den and Dart can't be kept waiting."

He took one last look at the big shed, before puffing away.

Soon after Paxton asked, "What's a jeeber?"

* * *

"A steam engine?" an orange-and-gray Sentinel said, eyes wide. "Ohhh, Diesel's not going to like this, Dart."

"Den, Diesel has to learn to tolerate steam engines someday," a red Leys replied calmly. "He may as well start with Billy."

"I know why you're worried, Den," Billy said. "I only met Diesel once, but I've always known how much trouble he is."

"Only once?"

"Soon after I arrived, I got whisked away to The Golden Railway."

The entire place went silent. Sidney and Norman, who'd just come in, exchanged a worried look.

"Billy," Norman said quietly, "we don't speak of The Golden here. It's a...sensitive issue."

"For Diesel Ten, I suppose," Billy said. "Right. I almost forgot."

"What's The Golden Railway?" Paxton asked.

Everyone looked at him and realized he didn't know.

"Paxton has the right to know," Norman said. "But not now. Tonight. We'll make sure Diesel Ten is asleep, and then we'll tell you his tragic story."

The others nodded in approval.

* * *

Derek arrived at Ffarquhar Quarry. His driver slipped out and climbed to the top of the big boxcar and unlatched the top. The door swung down, revealing it had rails inside it and on the door.

"Here you go, Lady," Derek said, as his driver climbed back inside his engine.

Lady began to puff out, eventually rolling onto the track. Her reddish-purple paint glinted in the afternoon sun.

"So what's the plan?" she asked.

"See that tunnel over there? Bertram used to work there, pulling stone out into the open. He died a few months ago, and we've never had an engine small enough to replace him since. Until now. The rails are dual-gauge, so you'll be fine."

Lady got herself turned around and backed into the tunnel. Derek shunted a small line of boxcars in front of her. "This way, no one will see you," Derek said. It was true; the cars were taller than Lady was. Derek then pushed some non-living trucks in front of her. "So you don't arouse suspicions."

Lady was coupled up to her new train. "Thanks Derek."

"Hey, I like helping people," Derek grinned. "Anything for a 'magical' engine." He chuckled as he left.

Lady snorted. "Magical. Pfft. Yeah right. If I _was_ magical, I would've smote all my enemies a long time ago."

"Lady!" scolded her driver, a Mr. Burnett Stone, who could do a killer Peter Fonda impression.

"What? Don't act like you haven't thought about it."

Wisely, Stone shut his mouth.

* * *

"Derek?" Mavis asked. "What were you doing over there?"

"New engine for the tunnel," he replied hastily.

"Ah."

"New engine?" came a voice. It was Ben. He and Bill were in the quarry.

"Why are you two here?" Mavis asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Clay pits flooded. We're stuck here until it's been cleaned up. And what's this about a new engine?" Bill asked.

"You're not to try and go see what she looks like, if that's what you want," Derek said sternly. "She's very shy, and it'll be a while before she's comfortable being seen in the open. You know how Molly doesn't want to fade into the background? The new engine's the exact opposite: she'd rather be hidden in the shadows."

"Since when were you such a killjoy?"

Derek sighed. "I got so little sleep on The Golden," he grumbled. "Sorry if I'm grumpy."

"Take a nap, then," Mavis said soothingly. "I'll cover for you."

"Thanks Mave."

After the diesels left, Bill and Ben looked at each other slyly.

"Tomorrow night?" Ben asked.

"Tomorrow night," Bill replied. "We want to see just who you are, little engine."

* * *

 **And it looks like Lady isn't magical after all. Looks like engines are alive for a different reason.  
**

 **What happened to make Diesel Ten loathe The Golden Railway? What will the China Clay Twins do to reveal Lady? How else will I lambast the total trainwreck that was TATMR?  
**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - The Golden Railway!**


	4. The Golden Railway

At Tidmouth's roundhouse, the engines were chatting when James said, "It's not fair that a splendid engine like me hasn't been considered for The Golden Railway. I would fit it perfectly."

"Here we go again," Henry groaned.

"James, it's not what it's cracked up to be, apparently," Rosie said. "Murdoch told me that the engines have to work at every hour of the day. The people who run it think that if they're going to preserve engines, the public has to know that the engines are useful at all times."

"And we all know how much you like your beauty sleep," Thomas added.

James conceded defeat. "Yeah...I guess you're right."

"Besides," Gordon rumbled, "any place that accepts _Diesel Ten_ is no place for a grand engine like me."

"You're just jealous that he got the highest score in the competition's history, and you weren't even so much as nominated," Henry teased.

"I am not!"

"He has a point," Thomas said. "Diesel Ten is a manipulative bully. Why anyone would want HIM around is a mystery."

"Um...I think he may have a softer side," Percy piped up.

"How can you say that? After how he tricked you eleven years ago?" Emily asked.

"I've been thinking about that, and...what if Diesel Ten was afraid of being turned down if he asked Sir Topham Hatt directly?"

Silence loomed over the sheds.

"Well, I guess it's time to go to sleep, then," Edward interrupted, eager to prevent a fight.

"Agreed," Gordon said, before shutting his eyes and falling asleep.

* * *

"Billy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for...uh...well-"

"What he wants to thank you for is bringing us Derek's old engine," Dart interjected. He, Den, Billy, and Norman were in the Dieselworks' sheds. "We've been trying to solve Derek's problems for years. It'll be interesting to see how his new system works."

"Oh. Well, you're welcome, Den."

Den smiled.

Paxton rolled up. "Uh, Billy, I don't want to be rude, but you might want to move."

"Can't you sleep elsewhere?" Billy asked, a little irritated.

"It's not me. It's Diesel. You're where he normally sleeps."

"Diesel," Norman grunted, "is working late tonight. If he needs a shed, he can board with the Smelters twins."

Sidney came from behind the sheds and backed into the last spare berth. "I forgot what I was supposed to tell Diesel Ten," he apologized. "But when I got there, he was asleep."

"No, Sidney, that's a good thing!" Norman said. "We told you to check on him and see if he was awake."

"I was? Oh, I'd better go!"

"...You already went."

"...Right."

"So," Paxton said, "what's this 'Golden Railway' I've heard so much about?"

"I'll start, because I was there and know the history best," Billy said. The others nodded.

He began.

* * *

 _"To know why Diesel Ten doesn't like The Golden, you must first know what The Golden is. It's a smallish railway in north England, close to the Scottish border. Founded in 1919, The Golden was first meant to honor the living engines who served in WW1. Eventually, it became a complete 'Lifer railway' when zealous followers of modernization began scrapping live steam engines along with the nonliving ones.  
_

 _"To get onto the railway, you must first be nominated. Then, you must compete against other engines in what's basically the Olympics, but with a new job as the prize. There are seven contests - strength, courtesy, humility, creativity, intelligence, cooperation, and speed, with all of them serving as a test of endurance. Each one is worth ten points. The engine with the highest score at the end becomes a member of The Golden Council - the winners of the contests - and chooses two engines from their old railway to be their 'apprentices'. I was an apprentice to Murdoch, who won the 2008 competition. Oh, and the contests are held every four years."_

 _"Sounds great!" Paxton said._

 _"Not so fast, Pax. Steam engines have always been nominated since the first contest in 1920, and electrics since 1956, but no diesels ever got considered. Not until 2000, at least. That year, Mesa Roja - a Lifer railway in New Mexico - had nominated one of their steam engines, but he was disqualified when it was discovered he was getting illegal modifications to increase his speed. So The Golden chose another engine._

 _"He was sent to work on Sodor three years earlier, but he used to live at Mesa Roja. He was big. He was strong. And he would rewrite history._

 _"His name?"_

 **"DIESEL TEN!"** the announcer roared.

Diesel Ten, then much younger and happier-looking, slid into a massive stadium. The engines who were spectating gulped in fear of the mighty diesel with a hydraulic claw attached to his roof. As did his opponents (well, all but one).

"And here we have all seventeen of our competitors," said the announcer's friend. "All lined up for the first event: The Strength Contest!"

"As you all know," the announcer boomed, "in this competition, our engines have to pull twenty trucks of different types. The one whose front wheels get the closest to the 500-yard mark before tiring wins."

"But this year is different," said the friend. "This is 2000, the start of a new millennium. Let's celebrate that by changing things up a bit. This time we won't be using British rolling stock. We'll be using _American_ rolling stock."

"Should be easy," one of the competitors, an SJ U electric engine named Elsa, said.

"This should provide an extra challenge, because American rolling stock is twice the size of British rolling stock."

"Spoke too soon," Elsa gulped, as the trains were pushed into the stadium by massive US freight locomotives.

"Our trains consist of (and I shall use American terminology here) two boxcars, two tankers, two autoracks, two hoppers, two gondolas (what Americans call trucks), four flatbeds, a crane, four types of coach, and a big red caboose (even though no one really needs them with air brakes now, the Yanks still think it's traditional that their trains have one)."

The engines were coupled up to their trains.

"Greetings, Diesel Ten," said the caboose at the end of the diesel's train. "My name is Garrett, and I will be your caboose today."

"Hello, Garrett," Diesel Ten replied. "Ready to win this?"

"Ready to be used for the first time in eighty years? You bet your rear cab I am!"

"Begin!" the announcer yelled.

The engines struggled with the unexpectedly heavy trains. Not Diesel Ten.

"Wow. Diesel Ten takes the lead here. How can a Warship be so good with American trucks?" said the befuddled announcer.

"Well," said the friend, "he's not an actual Class 42."

"He's not?"

"No. He's the prototype for a model that never came to be, the Class 42 1/2 'Battleship' by EMD. His designers loved the Class 42, but wanted to improve on it. So they made a diesel even stronger, faster, with more endurance, durability, and fuel efficiency."

Diesel Ten reached the halfway mark.

 _"Wait," Paxton said. "If he's an American diesel, why does he have a British accent?"_

 _"His designers were British," Norman explained._

 _"Oh."_

Diesel Ten eventually could go no further and stopped. "How far did I get?" he moaned.

"The line is under _my_ front wheel," said the female boxcar behind him.

"Wait, what?"

"Diesel Ten wins it! What an unbelievable feat! No one's ever gotten past the line!" the announcer shouted.

The crowd lost it.

"In first place, Diesel Ten for Mesa Roja at 521 yards! In second place, Lady for Muffle Mountain at 485 yards. In third place, Adolf for Deutsche Bahn at 472 yards..."

As the announcer rambled, Diesel Ten was uncoupled from his train. "Attaboy!" said his driver, a small, shrewd man.

"You've never spoken before," his engine noted.

"Never had a good reason to."

The two laughed.

"Good job, big guy!" said a feminine voice. Diesel Ten looked around. "Down here."

He looked and saw a small 0-4-0 tank engine, who looked an awful lot like a GWR Class 101. She was painted the same shade of purple as a grape, with her funnel and smokebox painted gold. She was definitely a very beautiful engine, Ten decided. Her name, LADY, was painted on her tanks in golden lettering.

"So you're the little engine that could," the diesel chuckled. "I have to admit, I'm impressed you managed to get as far as you did."

"I have enhanced strength to compensate for my small size. And by the looks of it, so do you."

"It's part of my design."

"Mine too, darling!"

"I'm still gonna beat you."

"Don't be too sure, Diesel Ten. Courtesy is next up, and I will so beat you at that."

"Bring it on, puffball."

 _"Bring it on he did!" Sidney chuckled. "He won them all, scoring ten out of ten for each. He was unstoppable!"_

 _"You remember THAT?" Billy asked._

 _"My_ SHORT _-term memory is bad, but my long-term memory is just fine."_

 _"Sidney's right," Dart smiled, as a montage of Diesel Ten being awesome flashed through his head. "Diesel Ten won all eighty points - the highest score possible in the competition. No other engine had ever done that."_

 _"So did he get on The Golden?" Paxton asked excitedly._

 _"Well..." Billy began, a little unsettled._

"With all eighty points, Diesel Ten has won the competition!" the announcer said, a bit worn out from the excitement.

Everyone cheered for him. The diesel smiled. "I did it," he said to himself quietly.

"And now he is an official member of The Golden Council! Choose your apprentices!" said Lyle Wellington, the manager of the railway himself, bringing a microphone to the diesel's face.

"Easy," the diesel said. "Splatter and Dodge of Sodor, I choose you!"

Two Class 8s, one olive green and one purple, whooped in excitement from the Sodor section of the audience.

The Golden Council engines rolled into the stadium. "It's about time we had a diesel," a maroon Class C4 (Belle's class) said. He smiled at the newcomer.

"Not so fast!"

Everyone gasped as an old Class O2 rolled right in front of Diesel Ten. The black 2-8-0 tender engine glared at him.

"Diesels," he spat, "are nothing but trouble. They're all the same: liars, slackers, whiners, the list goes on. As one of the original members of The Golden Railway, I FORBID you to enter!"

"Nigel!" scolded a dark green Class C1, identified as TRACY by her nameplate. "He won fair and square, you have to let him on!"

"No I don't," Nigel snarled. He rammed Diesel Ten off the rails. "I'd rather have a steam engine," he continued, glaring daggers at the downed Battleship. "Let's see..." his eyes fell on Lady. "The little purple one. She'll do nicely."

Lady spluttered. "N-no, you don't understand, I don't do good with fame. Just take the dumb diesel-" hearing this hurt Diesel Ten "-and leave me alone!"

"Come," Nigel said, sliding over to her like a sleaze (which he was). "You're small and _adorable_. The children would just _love_ to see you." He shoved Lady and began to push her out of the stadium. "Game's over! Go home!" he snapped to the crowd.

The crowd of people and engines began to leave, save the Sudrian diesels, who rushed into the stadium to calm down their crying friend.

"It's okay," BoCo said. "I know it's not fair that we're treated like boiler sludge just because of what fuel we use. Especially if _some engines_ perpetuate the stereotypes about us," he added, glaring at Arry, Bert, and Diesel, who nervously looked down at the rails.

"Any place that lets that Nigel guy be a bully isn't worth the trouble," Splatter hissed. "He's disgraceful!"

"Disgusting!" Dodge jumped in.

"Despicable," Dart finished. "Come on, Boss, let's go home. I'll check you over, too; Nigel may have dented your buffers."

Diesel Ten rerailed himself by pushing himself back on the tracks with his claw. Still sobbing, he followed his friends out.

Lady, still being pushed out by Nigel, saw Diesel Ten was upset.

"I'm so sorry," she said sadly, before beginning to cry herself.

 _"I don't remember that part," a confused Dart said to Billy._

 _"You and Diesel Ten must not have seen it," Billy replied. "She really was sorry," he continued, "but she had no choice. Mr. Wellington's superior, Mr. James Kirkman, said Nigel did the right thing, and he always got the final say."  
_

 _Paxton was now starting to cry. "W-what happened to Nigel?"_

 _"Karma happened," Norman grunted. "A week later Nigel had a freak accident, and he was damaged so badly he had to get scrapped. Billy forgot to mention this, but The Golden only adds on new engines when it's growing and needs them. If it's not growing, one of the council engines will compete, and if they lose, they leave, freeing up a position."_

 _"That's what happened in 2008. Murdoch went to The Golden because The Mallard lost his position to him in the competition," Billy explained._

 _"Precisely. But positions also open when a council engine dies. So when Nigel died, his position was opened up. Mr. Wellington went to Sodor and apologized to Diesel Ten personally, and asked him if he wanted to come just to spite whatever was left of Nigel. Diesel Ten said yes, and he, Splatter, and Dodge left for The Golden._

 _"They had no idea things were soon going to get worse."_

"Hiya kids!" Splatter said to a station filled with kids. The kids had heard new engines were coming and wanted to welcome them.

"Hello," Dodge said more quietly, although he was still happy.

The children cheered for them. "Diesels! I love diesels!" said one of the kids, a little boy with glasses.

"Are you on the council?" a little girl asked.

"No," Dodge chuckled, "though we'd like to be. Our friend is the one on the council. In fact, here he comes now!"

Diesel Ten slid onto the track closest to the station and grinned.

The station went silent.

"I don't think I like diesels anymore," said the boy.

All the children freaked out. Diesel Ten slapped his forehead with his claw. "Once again," he grunted, "I'm the monster."

 _"The parents were terrified too, according to him," Sidney sighed. "They started to tell The Golden's managers what a bad railway it was. It was eventually decided that Diesel Ten could stay, but he'd have to work in the scrapyards where no one could see him. He'd worked in scrapyards for so much of his life he'd gotten sick of them, but he had no choice."_

 _"The Golden Scrapyard is the WORST scrapyard in the world, Paxton," Billy griped. "Instead of engine corpses neatly laid flat on the rails they're stacked into huge, unstable mounds. Everyone has to be very careful while working there. Diesel Ten was working there one day, collecting wheels for engines who needed theirs replaced with Splatter and Dodge, when disaster struck."_

"Trailing wheels from an A1!" Splatter hollered. "Flying Scotsman's order has to come through!"

Diesel Ten wheeled forward to the corpse of an old A1 lying on its side, its cab sticking out from one of the mounds. "Okay Pinchy, let's see how nimble you are," he said to his claw. He reached forward and deftly snapped the trailing axle in half, then slipped both of the wheels off it. He backed up and deposited his catch into one of Splatter's trucks. "Y'know, you guys behave a lot better than your Sudrian counterparts."

"We have to be," one of the trucks replied. "One false move and the whole thing falls to the ground. We've lost too many of our brethren that way."

"Okay," Splatter said. "Now we need one driving and two tender wheels for a Stirling Single named Emily."

"We should get both drivers so we have a spare," Ten said.

"Good idea."

Diesel Ten moved forward and looked through the mounds. "Stirling...Stirling...I know there's one in here...there it is." The corpse was also on its side and was wedged in its mound very firmly. "This will require maximum precision," he said to his claw.

"He's talking to it again," one of the trucks said.

"You get used to it," Dodge said to him. The truck shut up.

Diesel Ten slowly snapped the driving axle and the coupling rod, then slowly lifted the driver off its axle, backed up, and lowered it into one of Dodge's trucks. He moved forward again and pondered how to get the other driver, and the tender's wheels too.

He didn't see it, but a car drove into the scrapyard. A teenager thought it would be fun to scare Diesel Ten. So right when the diesel figured out the safest way to dislodge the corpse, the teenager honked his car's horn.

"GAH!" Diesel Ten yelped, jolting forward in surprise and smacking into an Ivatt corpse sticking out of the mound head-on. The teenager cackled and drove away. "WHY YOU LITTLE BAS-"

The mound began to shake. In doing so, the Stirling corpse was dislodged. Diesel Ten hastily grabbed its other driver and flung it behind him, where it landed into a truck.

"What about the tender wheels?!" Splatter yelled.

"We'll just have to take the whole tender!" Diesel Ten yelled back, hefting the tender over his roof. "Right now we have to get out of here!"

So the three engines scrambled out, just in time for the mound to collapse. A Jinty lying precariously at its summit fell off and landed on the ground with a sickening crunch.

"That," Dodge panted, "was too close."

"Good thing you live up to your name, huh?" Splatter asked.

The trucks trembled in fear.

"Let's deliver these wheels, then tell the controller what happened," Diesel Ten said. "Luckily, no one was hurt."

 _"He had no idea how wrong he was," Billy sighed. "You see, Paxton, because of the unsafe scrapyard there's a special protocol. All engines must whistle six times when they enter, and seven times when they leave. That way, they minimize casualties. But the heads of the railway neglected to tell their engines and their drivers; only Diesel Ten, his apprentices, and two other engines knew about it._

 _"Lady was not one of those two who did."_

As he made his way home, Diesel Ten saw Dexter, a Class 76 electric engine, hauling a mysterious lump on a flatbed. When he got closer, he discovered that the lump was actually Lady, whom he hadn't seen in a while. Her body was crushed, her face was bruised, and her eyes were shut. She appeared dead.

"What happened?!" Diesel Ten exclaimed.

"Scrap mound collapsed. A Jinty fell on her and knocked her out. She's alive, but unconscious," Dexter explained.

"Ohhh...this is all my fault."

"No it isn't, Ten," Tracy said, pulling up beside him. "I saw everything. My driver notified Mr. Wellington, and my fireman called the police. That teenager's got a lot of explaining to do."

"I hope Lady's okay," Diesel Ten murmured.

"We all do," Dexter said.

 _"Everyone was worried for her. Their drivers confirmed the protocol's existence in their guidebooks, and all the engines promised to use it from then on. They rejoiced when they heard Lady regained consciousness, that her repairs would be completed in five months, and that her driver Mr. Stone decided not to press charges against Diesel Ten, for he blamed himself for not knowing to whistle. One day, Diesel Ten was scheduled to see Lady...but he never got the chance, for that morning a group of people came to his shed and mobbed him. They called him names and threw things at him, and wouldn't let him leave. No one knew why. At first._

 _"It turned out a newspaper had started publishing a story a week after Lady's accident. The story claimed Lady was a magical engine, who used special gold dust to keep steam engines alive! And Diesel Ten was an evil, despicable being who had tried to scrap her so he could wipe out living steam engines for good! The story wasn't remotely true, not to mention poorly written, but the public loved it, and hated Diesel Ten because of it. Splatter and Dodge weren't affected because the story said they reformed out of nowhere and turned on him, but Diesel Ten was now seen as a monster._

 _"They kept getting worse, and soon Diesel Ten couldn't work. One night, a reporter came to the sheds to ask him why he tried to kill Lady."  
_

"I didn't!" Diesel Ten said to the reporter.

"He's got witnesses, too!" Tracy added. "Me, Splodge, all our operators, Lady's driver, and nineteen trucks on top of that!"

"Diesels always look out for each other," the reporter snapped. "Trucks always love to play tricks, and women can't be expected to know anything."

" **EXCUSE ME?!** " roared literally half the engines in the roundhouse.

The reporter sighed and left. "Dumb machines."

Mr. Wellington slipped into the sheds and stood in front of the engines. "Diesel Ten, I have disturbing news," he said grimly. "Your driver was almost mauled this morning, but he managed to beat the assailant up. But he found out something very bad from the attacker. Tomorrow night, a group of people are going to pour sugar into your tanks and seize you up, and then they'll rip your claw apart in front of you and make you watch."

Diesel Ten gulped.

"You can only do one thing: leave the railway tonight. I'm very sorry, but you have no other options. Lady hasn't been fully repaired, so she can't refute that she's got magic powers, and I don't think Kirkman wants her to. This tall tale has brought a lot of revenue to the railway, and he's always been focused on our profits."

"Prat," the C4 muttered.

"I know, Marvin, but he's a powerful prat. Splatter and Dodge have elected to stay because they think it's good if people get used to there being diesels."

"I can respect that," Diesel Ten said. "But I will miss them."

His driver climbed into his engine.

"Diesel Ten?"

A steam engine had said that. He was a fairly old engine, an NBR Class K. He was painted a glittering gold, and his name, RICHARD, was painted on his tender in black. He was very significant: he was the very first engine to win the competition, and to work on the railway.

"Good luck. I mean it."

 _"Unfortunately, that was easier said than done," Dart said. "Billy, we'll take over from here, for the last part happened on Sodor before you came."_

 _"Got it."_

 _"When Diesel Ten came back, we were expecting him to come straight home. But there was a little...detour. The mainland's engines knew the story was fake, but the Sudrian engines were far more naive, and believed it."_

Diesel Ten sighed as he trundled down the rails.

"Oh no! It's him!"

Diesel Ten saw six engines he hadn't seen before. A blue E2 (Thomas), a blue A1 (Gordon), a red K28 (James), a brown J70 (Toby), a green Class 5 (Henry), and a green saddletank that looked like a seriously malformed Trojan (Percy). They glared at him.

"You killed an innocent engine!" the E2 snapped.

"Didn't you ever get told not to believe everything you read?" Diesel Ten growled. His claw snapped, frightening the six engines.

"Don't deny it. You're a monster," said the K28.

"A monster who can outrun you!" Diesel Ten replied, before running off.

"Let's get him!" the E2 exclaimed, before chasing after him.

"Oh, I wish Edward wasn't in the works so he could talk some sense into Thomas," the A1 groaned.

Diesel Ten managed to get himself turned around and wasn't facing Thomas, who was chasing him. Diesel Ten was much faster, what with being based on an engine used for pulling expresses, but Thomas knew about the old viaduct Diesel Ten was unknowingly heading towards. Thomas braked just in time, but Diesel Ten's 85-ton bulk rocketed over the bridge and caused it to collapse. Luckily, he fell into a passing garbage barge.

"That'll teach you," Thomas hissed, before backing away.

 _"Eventually we found him, upset. I guess everything he'd been through finally made him snap."_

"Steam engines!" Diesel Ten seethed while Den and Dart cleaned him out. "They're all the same! I can't believe I actually trusted them! No more! From now on, I will be the scariest diesel they've ever seen, if that's what they think I should be!"

"Finally!" Diesel, the black anti-steam Class 8, said joyfully.

Den and Dart exchanged a worried look.

* * *

"And there you have it," Sidney finished. "Lies and intolerance turned Diesel Ten into the engine you know him as."

"Poor guy," Paxton whimpered. Sidney backed up, and Paxton rushed into his brother's berth and started sobbing profusely, while Sidney tried to comfort him as best he could.

"So _that's_ why he hates steam engines," Billy gasped.

"Diesel Ten was always a little uncomfortable around steam engines," Den interjected. "But remember, the NWR wasn't his first railway; Mesa Roja was. When Diesel Ten first came to Sodor he was very upset, and we heard him cry all night. We have reason to believe he'd recently lost someone very important to him. We don't know if it was his creator, or an engine he was close to or even loved, but at any rate he won't say a word about his old life. And given he can tear a truck to pieces with his claw in a few seconds, we're frankly too afraid to ask him."

"That's the most you've said without stuttering," Dart noted, very impressed.

"I, uh, was thinking that one up for, erm, a few years now."

By now Paxton had calmed down, and was fast asleep. The other diesels decided it was best to sleep too. Tomorrow would be a big day, after all. But Billy stayed awake a little longer, and stared at Diesel Ten's distant shed.

"I hate leaving loose ends by nature," Billy said quietly. "But The Golden Railway taught me how to turn that impulsiveness into initiative and drive. I don't want you to feel so alone, Ten. It may be silly, but I won't rest until you're okay."

And then he fell asleep, dreaming of silent pastures and the sea.

* * *

 **So there you have it! The Golden Railway! And TATMR is a bunch of tabloids!  
**

 **Will Billy get to meet Diesel Ten himself? Will Diesel Ten discover Lady? And what happened to the thing in the prologue?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - The Origin of Lifers!**


	5. The Origin of Lifers

As the sun began to rise, the engines of Tidmouth began to wake up. Sir Topham Hatt, the controller of the standard gauge Northwestern Railway, drove up in his car to assign the day's jobs.

"Thomas and Edward, you have this morning's passenger trains on your respective branchlines. Henry, Emily, you've got to take paper to the printshop for the newspaper. Gordon and James, you have the express and mainline passenger duties respectively. Percy, you're to take some coal up to the Skarloey railway. And Rosie, you have to collect Kelly and take him to Arlesburgh so he can help fix a downed power line. Is that clear, everyone?"

"Yes, sir!" James said triumphantly.

* * *

Inside her tunnel, Lady yawned a cute little yawn as Burnett Stone gently lit her fire.

* * *

Derek rolled out of a shed, a smile on his face.

"Thanks Mavis," he said. "I feel like my old happy self again. I really did need that nap. Now let's get to work."

Mavis laughed as she rolled with him to take care of some trucks. Bill and Ben looked to the tunnel Lady was hiding in.

"Tonight," they said to each other mischievously.

* * *

"Hey!"

Billy snored.

"Hey!"

Billy was still snoring.

"HEY!" **Br** **auuuuuuuuuump!**

Billy jolted awake to see an angry Diesel glaring at him.

"You're in my shed!"

"Diesel, five more minutes," Sidney mumbled in his sleep.

"You'll have to wait until my crew comes," Billy grunted.

"What is a STEAM ENGINE doing here?!" Diesel hissed to Den and Dart, who had already woken up.

"He's our new, well, parts fetcher. What he does is, um-"

"What he means is, Billy works here now," Dart interjected. "He collects parts so we can spend more time repairing engines. Just arrived yesterday."

"Can't you make all your parts here?" Diesel inquired.

"Not everything. We don't have the equipment needed to make bits like motors, or transmissions, or alternators. Those we have to get shipped in from elsewhere."

Just then, Donald arrived carrying a battered Rusty on a flatbed.

"Rusty got caught in a rockslide," Donald explained. "He got dented an' he's leakin' fuel."

"Rusty needs a new radiator, too," Dart mused. "A shipment with it should've arrived today. We can replace it today while we smooth out the dents and replace the fuel tanks. Should be very easy."

"Billy, can you, erm, get the parts?" Den asked.

"Sure thing!" Billy said, as his crew arrived and got him steamed up.

"Be very careful!" Norman warned him. "Go slowly! A lot of these parts are very delicate and would be very costly to replace."

Billy then puffed off...very slowly.

"You don't have to go _that_ slow right this minute," his driver told him.

"No, I do, this way I don't forget," Billy told her.

"Good idea."

Once he'd left the sheds, Diesel, too tired to mess up the parts run, pulled in and fell asleep.

No one knew that in a distant shed, someone had seen the entire spectacle.

"Well that's odd," Diesel Ten said to himself.

* * *

Thomas was finished with his jobs for the morning. Now that Hatt had acquired so many engines, there were enough on the NWR fleet so that Thomas was left without any jobs until two o'clock. It was ten right now.

Needless to say, he was bored.

A whistle shook him out of his thoughts (he'd been wondering where Arthur had gone). Thomas turned his eyes and saw Emily move up beside him, on his left.

"Hey Thomas," she said cheerfully.

"Oh, hi Emily. Are you and Henry done already?"

"I am. Henry had to go get Rocky when we were done. Arthur got separated from his train by a falling tree."

"Ooh," Thomas winced. "I hope Arthur's alright. Say, I haven't seen him in a few years. Where was he?"

"Getting restored, apparently. Who knew?"

"I did," Rosie said, puffing up on Thomas' right.

Emily gave Rosie a death glare.

Now, both Rosie and Emily had a crush on Thomas, and both were aware of this. Thomas, being an idiot, was not.

"I guess you must've met Arthur when he was coming back," Thomas mused. "You have any other new engines to meet? Because I'm bored stiff."

"No, I don't."

The three sighed.

"Hey...why don't we have a race?" Rosie asked.

Emily knew of the tank engines' races to the docks, and was frankly quite jealous. But then she got an idea. "We should! But not to the docks. To our sheds. Me and you, Rosie. Whichever one of us gets there first has to take the four o'clock waste train."

"You're on!" Rosie grinned. "And Thomas, why don't you race ahead of us? So we have someone to check if we have a tie."

"Okay," Thomas said, puffing in front of them.

Then came the real reason Rosie said that: to give the girls an incentive. In front of their faces was Thomas' bunker, causing the girls to lick their lips lustfully. Thomas couldn't see them, so he didn't react. "Let's go!" Thomas exclaimed, whistling a hearty _fa fa fa_!

And thus the race began.

* * *

Billy returned to the Dieselworks, the parts in tow.

"Good job, Billy!" Norman said.

"Eh, whatever," his brother Dennis mumbled. Norman rolled his eyes in exasperation.

* * *

Toad and Oliver watched the race from afar. "So who do you think will win, Mr. Oliver?" Toad asked.

"I hope Rosie will," Oliver replied. "Score something for us tank engines. And you and I both know our opinion on her and Thomas."

"Don' be silly!" Douglas said as he pulled up beside the 14xx. "Emily's gon tae win. She's a tendie, an' a Scottish one a' that. She knew Thomas longer besides."

"How about we make a bet?" Oliver said deviously.

"I'm lis'nin'."

"If Rosie gets to Tidmouth Sheds first, you have to get painted green and say 'The Great Western Railway is better than the Caledonian Railway' to Donald's face. If Emily gets there first instead, I won't do passenger work for a month."

"What if something happens and they can't finish the race?" Toad piped up.

"Good thinking, Toad. If they can't complete the race, then you can sleep in my shed for...well, today's Sunday, so for the week."

"Wass the big deal about Toad sleepin' in yer shed?" Douglas asked.

"He sleeps with the trucks. I know it's been twenty-seven years since Scruffey, but I don't want them getting any ideas."

"Yer on," Douglas grinned.

* * *

The three had made it to Haultraugh when Thomas, not realizing the points were set against him, disappeared into a surprise siding.

"Thomas!" Rosie and Emily shrieked.

The signalman saw them and called out to them. "Sorry about that. Darn lever keeps slipping. I'll have to get it fixed. I wouldn't worry about it anyway. That siding hasn't been open since 1893."

"We should go in there anyway," Rosie said to Emily. "Who knows what we'll find in there? Or who?"

"Rosie, I highly doubt we'll get a repeat of Hiro," Emily sighed.

"Weird things always happen to Thomas," Rosie said. "Weeeeeeeird things indeed."

"If we go, will you promise to be quiet?"

"Sure."

"Switch us onto the siding Thomas went on!" Emily said. The signalman complied.

* * *

"Thomas, are you alright?" Emily asked as she and Rosie chugged up next to a dazed Thomas.

"I'm fine. Luckily, no one was hurt," Thomas grunted.

"Speak for your bloody self!" Bob screamed from inside his engine's cab.

"Your driver hit his head when we stopped," Thomas' fireman explained.

"What stopped us?" Thomas asked. It was then that he and the girls noticed the vine-covered object in front of him. Thomas gently buffered up to it. "Nothing!" he exclaimed.

Then the thing lit up, incinerating the vines. The three gulped as a vintage coach, painted dark gray, appeared in front of them. She looked old and wise. Her buffers turned into slender six-fingered hands and clasped under her chin. "Hello, my children," she said sweetly.

* * *

Somewhere in Australia, Shane was woken up by what he swore were three screams.

* * *

"Don't scream!" the coach exclaimed.

"Who are you?!" Emily yelped.

"Calm down, it's okay," the coach said. The engines calmed down. "My name is Crana," the coach explained. "Built 1806 as a rail carriage, rebuilt 1836 into a safer design, moved here in 1892 and forgotten. I am the original Lifer."

"The original?" Thomas asked. "So...before you, no machines were alive?"

"That's right."

"How _are_ we alive, anyway?"

"You know," Emily's driver said, "I heard of a legend that a long time ago, God sent some metal down from Heaven, and that was used to make the first Lifer."

"I've heard it too," Crana said. She sighed. "A shame, really. My creators have existed a mere fifth of the time humans have, yet humans have yet to evolve past their need for spiritual beliefs."

"We humans are a stubborn lot, not very willing to change," Emily's driver replied cynically.

"Wait - your creators?" Emily asked.

"When science fiction first came up with the idea for beings from other planets, I immediately realized that's where I must have come from, and I decided to use the data from my nanotechnology to piece together my past," Crana explained.

"Nanotechnology? Aren't those tiny robots?" Rosie asked.

"Indeed. From the data I've managed to collect from them, I've discovered that on a planet far, far away from here, creatures created nanobots, and used them to bring machines to life. They did this by using the Crana technique, after which I am named. The way to bring machines to life is to give the nanobots a base made of white paint containing at least some titanium, and this." She picked up a softly glowing purplish-pink rock. "Sudrian quartz. The nanobots use this as a key component in their power chips. Doesn't exist naturally on Earth - the nanobots have to turn ordinary sand into it - but in the high radiation levels of my creator's homeworld it's quite plentiful. When a Lifer on Earth dies, the nanobots convert any Sudrian quartz back into sand."

"But why did the aliens come to Earth?" Rosie asked.

"They weren't trying to. Another race from a different planet wanted the technology. You see, the first year on the creator's planet - thirty days on Earth - that a machine is alive is their most important. That's when their entire personality takes shape, and it's vital that one raises them properly. Otherwise, they won't behave themselves. But the other creatures wanted to teach their machines how to kill and fight - turn them into the perfect loyal war machines. The creators said no. They paid the price."

The engines shuddered at the thought.

"One ship, carrying the last container of the nanobots and a tiny bit of Sudrian quartz, was flying by your planet when the other creatures found them, fought them, and shot them down. From the remains of that ship was I built, and a few nanobots found the quartz crystals embedded in the white paint used to make my face and brought me to life. Now, some machines carry on the legacy of my creators."

"What a wonderful story," Thomas said. "We should tell everyone."

"No, you shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Thomas, are there any other LB&SCR E2s out there?"

"No...I was #109, put into a shed and forgotten. My base was found in 1960 and then I was brought to life."

"Rosie, you're an American engine. Have you met Southern Pacific Class 4 Number 4449?"

"You mean Aurora? Yeah, we've met."

"Now what do she and Thomas have in common aside from being English-speaking steam engines?"

"They're...the only ones of their classes left," she realized.

"AND the only ones of their classes to come alive in the first place," Crana added. "Think about it. Often times, a Lifer is the only thing keeping a class from extinction - none of that class left. But some people don't take that fact well."

"She's right," Emily commented. "Some of my passengers on the mainland weren't comfortable with me being alive."

"It's worse than that, Em," her fireman said. "In the 1950s, when the Beeching Cuts and Modernization began, steam engines started being scrapped by the hundreds. But the people who started both events said that LIVE steam engines were not to be scrapped. Instead, they were to keep working until they could no longer, and then go to museums for preservation. However, some people wanted ALL steam engines destroyed. So they began abducting and killing the live ones in direct violation of the rules. Donald, Douglas, and Oliver know this all too well."

"Luckily, in 2011, the UN passed a law that said Lifers could only be scrapped if they couldn't be kept alive - and they were very specific about what that meant," Bob interjected.

"So there are people who don't like living vehicles...and if they knew that the original one was here..." Thomas gasped. "They could destroy you, and render all of us nonliving! Then they'd be free to scrap all the steam engines in the world!"

Emily and Rosie recoiled in horror.

"I know, and I'm sorry that I can't help stop these marauders, but I'm equally as mortal as you, if not more so due to my age," Crana sighed. "Soon, I shall be able to give you all the ability to move without drivers - wonderful people they are, I want you to experience more of the human's world. But that will not be for a while."

"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone about you," Emily promised. "You won't be scrapped. We'll make sure of it."

* * *

"So who won?" Oliver asked Thomas.

"Won what?"

"The race between the girls."

"We...canceled it."

"Drat," Oliver groaned. "I was so ready to see the look on Donald's face when Douglas ticked him off. Oh well, I suppose I could always make another bet..."

As he left, Thomas asked Duck "What was that all about?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Duck replied. "But we've got more important things to think about."

 _You have no idea how right you are_ , Thomas thought.

* * *

 **Rosie's right. The weird stuff always seems to happen to Thomas.**

 **This chapter was to solve the mystery of why the machines are even alive. Most of the time, the Crana technique doesn't work, thus why not all of the rolling stock is alive. Nonliving locomotives will appear in a later chapter.**

 **Now the OT3 have found out why they're alive, and that not everyone likes Lifers. Meanwhile, Diesel Ten appears at last, and Billy has proved himself worthy of his new job.**

 **Will a Lifer-hater appear and cause trouble on Sodor? Will Billy meet Diesel Ten? And are Oliver and Douglas the only ones betting on who will end up with Thomas?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - The Call of the Claw!**


	6. The Call of the Claw

"There you go, Rusty," a workman said said as a metal panel was placed over the little diesel's engine and secured. "All fixed up."

"Thanks," Rusty, who was resting on a flatbed, said. "And thanks to your new parts fetcher. He did a good job making sure my new radiator stayed safe."

Billy chuckled. "Don't praise me, I'll get a swelled head! Oh, wait, that's James."

The diesels laughed. "Your jokes are much better that Chafe's!" Sidney laughed. Misnaming his idiot brother made Billy laugh. Eventually, they quieted down.

"It's a shame we don't have any narrow-gauge track here," Paxton said. "We'll have to figure out who should take Rusty back to Blue Mountain."

They had just begun to think about this when a deep horn sounded. The engines gasped as a tall, imposing figure entered the Dieselworks.

"Hello...boss," Den said nervously, as the tall, dark yellow Class 42 1/2 rolled over to the trucks containing the shipment of parts.

Diesel Ten pried open one of the crates with his claw and gingerly pulled out its contents. "A gearbox for a Class 7," he mused as he inspected the gray object. "Completely intact." He set it back down. "I must say, I'm rather surprised. A steamer, caring so much about the wellbeing of diesels."

"E-every engine deserves the chance to be really useful," Billy stuttered. "And engines can't be useful if they can't move."

"I suppose so," Ten replied. His gaze shifted to Billy. "I don't know whether you're very brave or very stupid to come here. I understand you were assigned to work here, but to _willingly_ enter the lair of devious diesels without complaint or influence of manipulation is something new."

"There's a first time for every...thing..." Billy gulped as Diesel Ten neared him. The diesel then began to stare Billy down, looking into his eyes without blinking.

Billy was frightened. Diesel Ten certainly was a big engine, not to mention one of the tallest he'd ever seen. And then there was the toothed hydraulic claw, which looked much scarier up close.

But a thought suddenly came to Billy: _no. I'm not letting you win._ So his eyes set into a glare, and he stared Diesel Ten down back.

If the diesel was surprised, he didn't show it. "I like this one," he said, finally blinking. "He's got determination, and a good work ethic. If you need me, I'll be in my shed."

"What?!" Billy said. "Oh no, you are not going back in there! Aren't you the one the railway fears? Ten out of ten for brute strength and devious deeds?"

"One, that's not how I got my name. I was simply the tenth diesel purchased by my original railway. It's not my actual name anyway."

"...Well that's anticlimactic."

"Two, have you seen how the other engines treat me? They all think I'm a monster!"

"You're afraid of them, aren't you?"

Diesel Ten looked away, ashamed.

"Look, I know what happened on The Golden Railway. I was an apprentice for the 2008 winner. I know your story, and it never should've happened. But you can't hide from the world forever. One of these days, you'll have to get out there and face your fears."

Rusty spoke up. "I don't want to interrupt anything, but I should really be going back to Blue Mountain. Billy, I think it would be best if you took me so you can learn the route."

"Okay. Someone couple me up."

* * *

With Rusty in tow, Billy was about to leave the Dieselworks when a horn sounded. He was surprised to see Diesel Ten pull up next to him.

"I'm going with you."

"Really?" Billy asked, shocked.

"You're right. I'm tired of being a coward. If the world doesn't want to see me, too bad!"

Behind him, the other diesels had huge smiles on their faces. They'd waited for this day for years.

"Besides, Tangerine, you need a way to get Rusty back on the tracks."

"He's right," Rusty said.

"Did you just call me 'Tangerine'?" Billy asked incredulously.

Diesel Ten waved his claw dismissively. "Eh, it doesn't matter. Lead the way, Rusty."

And off they went.

* * *

 **They have met. Diesel Ten isn't exactly what everyone thought he was. He does fear. But it's time he regained the self he lost.**

 **What will happen at Blue Mountain Quarry? What will we see of Diesel Ten's old railway, Mesa Roja? What other nicknames will Diesel Ten come up with?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - Diesel Ten's Day Out!**


	7. Diesel Ten's Day Out

**(AN: I made this story many moons ago, I'm just now putting it up. The following review of reviews is an addition to the original document).**

 **Now that the first five chapters are up, let's get to reviews!**

 **Guest 20, on Lady being magical: No, she isn't. Mr. Conductor is not canon to this story either.**

 **Guest 44, on what the China Clay Twins will do: They will TRY to ask her about her origins, but she won't tell them. Why is coming in a later chapter.**

 **Guest AZ, on what D10 will do: Um...I'm pretty sure Chapter 3 explicitly stated that Thomas and the Magic Railroad didn't actually happen.**

 **Guest, on spirituality: The line in question was meant to show that Crana truly is alien, and thus has a different mindset on human culture. Living machines wouldn't have much of a concept of religion anyway (seeing that many would've actually _met_ their builders at some point).**

 **DJ Scales, on the story: Thanks. I worked very hard on this.**

 **Speaking of the story...**

* * *

The three engines were making their way to Blue Mountain when Diesel Ten suddenly asked "So, did The Golden ever figure out it was okay to have diesels?"

Billy wasn't expecting him to ask that, but he was happy to answer. "Yeah, they're a lot better about nominating diesels now. And they're better about taking diesels on as apprentices too; in 2008, Murdoch's other apprentice besides me was Derek."

"So _that's_ where he popped off to."

"And in 2012, the winner was a Class 52 named Betty, and everyone really likes her."

"Wow. They've done a good job being more accepting." He sighed. "Wish it wasn't because I was the martyr."

"What's a martyr?"

"Someone who has to die for an important change to happen. Obviously, I'm not actually dead, but it serves as an accurate metaphor for my situation."

"Oh."

Silence.

"What about Lady?" Rusty asked. He didn't know that was such a sensitive issue.

"Well," Billy sighed, "she was ruined by the story just as much as Diesel Ten. People thought she really was magical, and would crowd around her daily."

"How would fame qualify for 'ruin'?" Diesel Ten inquired, a bit snappier now.

"Apparently, she's not very good with being the center of attention."

"Oh. Huh, I never knew."

"Those people delayed her repairs by coming to the works and blocking the workmen," Billy continued. "Lady's repairs took fifteen years instead of five months like they were supposed to. And she's never been able to get back to work." He left out how he, Derek, and Murdoch had met her, and had planned on smuggling her onto Sodor.

"I never got a chance to apologize to her," Diesel Ten said sadly.

More silence, until Rusty said "We're here."

* * *

"It's good to see you again, Rusty!" Skarloey exclaimed as he and the other narrow-gauge engines in the quarry greeted him and their standard-gauge guests. "Luckily, the rockslide wasn't too big, so it was cleaned up in no time!"

"Yay, Rusty's mended!" Peter Sam added.

"That's a big engine..." Luke gasped on seeing Diesel Ten for the first time.

"Okay Rusty, time to get you back to work," the aforementioned diesel said. He backed up next to the flatbed where Rusty was while the latter's drivers removed the chains tying Rusty down. Once they were gone, Diesel Ten lifted Rusty off the flatbed, careful not to grip him too tightly or Rusty would need more repairs. He moved his claw over to a section of narrow-gauge track and set Rusty down.

"Thank you," Rusty said. "I feel fifty years younger now that my radiator's been replaced."

"That claw of yours sure looks dangerous," Rheneas noted to Diesel Ten. "But I'm sure you can be really useful with it."

Diesel Ten chuckled. "Thanks, Rheneas."

"Really useful? Pah!"

That voice belonged to a standard-gauge viridian Wilfort saddletank engine, currently pulling a train of stone. A light green brakevan was at the back.

"Who is that?" Billy whispered to Diesel Ten.

"You mean _what_ is that. I've never seen anything so... _ugly_!" Diesel Ten whispered back.

"I'm much more useful than that monstrosity!" Samson griped.

"I could say the same regarding you, Cabless," Diesel Ten snarked back.

"Who's that speaking to us?" the brakevan asked.

"No one important, Bradford," Samson said. "Just that cheap imitation Class 42."

"Your claw violates the law! You're taller than British loading gauge, Ten!" Bradford barked at Diesel Ten.

Diesel Ten responded by opening his roof and putting his claw away.

"I didn't know you could do that," Billy said.

"Normally, I don't need to," the diesel explained. "I'm meant for American loading gauge. Besides, the Class 42 itself is a cheap imitation of the V200 from Germany, so shut up," Diesel Ten growled at Samson.

"I will not! I'm stronger than you-"

"I've pulled American freight trains twenty-five cars long. _Without_ needing to double-head."

"-more reliable than you-"

"My maintenance costs $4500 a year. Yours is definitely higher."

"-and faster than you!"

"Faster?" Diesel Ten scoffed. "Hardly. A Class 42's maximum speed is ninety miles an hour. And as a Class 42 1/2, I'm meant to be even faster, so mine is one _hundred_."

"Speak in kilometers! This is Britain, not America!" Bradford shouted.

"Fine. 144 kilometers per hour and 160 kilometers per hour. Happy?"

"...That is indeed very fast."

Samson ignored Bradford and addressed Diesel Ten. "Please. I could outrun you any day. Uncouple me from my train, driver. I want to show this fool a lesson."

Samson's driver complied, but as he did he muttered "Sounds to me like the fool is someone else."

Diesel Ten got himself turned around by looping through the quarry (startling Fearless Freddie in the process) and pulled up next to Samson. One blast of Peter Sam's whistle, and the two shot out of the quarry.

" **SAMSON!** " Bradford roared, furious at being left behind.

* * *

Samson soon hit his top speed and quickly found himself unable to keep up. Diesel Ten, meanwhile, effortlessly coasted down the track.

Samson stopped. "Alright...you win...I can't keep pace with your top speed."

"Top speed? I was traveling only half that." Diesel Ten looked ahead confidently. "THIS is my top speed!"

His engine revved like no one had ever seen, and he raced off faster than anyone else on Sodor (except Spencer) could.

"Samson? What are you doing here?" James, who'd just arrived, asked the cabless tank engine.

"Don't ask."

* * *

Gordon thundered down the main line with his six coaches, who were unusually quiet today. But Gordon didn't pay mind to that. "EXPRESS-"

"COMING THROUGH!" Diesel Ten bolted ahead of Gordon and effortlessly sped over a hill.

"What on Sodor?!" Gordon said.

"Was that Diesel Ten?" the coach behind him asked.

"It was. I don't understand why he's out, Carly. He normally slinks around in the background. He's almost never out in the open."

"He was going a lot faster than you," the second coach said. "Why can't we go that fast?"

"Oh, Tabitha, don't start this again!" Gordon groaned.

* * *

As Diesel Ten raced down the line, a memory came to him.

 _1986\. Diesel Ten was two years old. Back then, he was painted differently. He was light blue with two white stripes, above them a red outline of two incomplete rectangles on his side, next to which were the words MESA ROJA. On his back was a white D10._

 _Racing alongside him in the desert was an electric engine, a Milwaukee Road Class ES-1. He was painted in the same colors as the diesel._

 _"I win again!" Diesel Ten said, pulling up to a ledge. "Sorry Zach, but you just can't beat me."_

 _"Won't stop me from trying," Zach chuckled. The two then looked over the ledge to the setting sun._

* * *

Eventually, Billy found Diesel Ten on a siding on a hill. "Oh boy. You would not believe how bossy that brakevan was."

"Is that a problem?"

"When you do your lazy brother's work for forty-five years, you get a little..."

"Crazy?"

"Yeah."

The two looked over the hill to the towns below. Diesel Ten felt the wind in his face and sighed happily.

"You look happy."

"I am. This brings back so many good memories..."

* * *

 **Our first glimpse of Mesa Roja! Sure looks like Diesel Ten used to be a lot happier. Also, the coaches can talk again! The names of Gordon's express coaches are, from first to last: Carly, Tabitha, Marli, Nadia, Valentina, and Wendy. The red coaches will be named shortly.**

 **I do not like Samson. He is a prideful little moron whose ego puts James' to shame.**

 **How did Diesel Ten get so cynical? Will he get to pull the express? Or will I surprise you next chapter with something completely different?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - An Inspection!**


	8. An Inspection

Misty Island was a tiny island off the coast of Sodor. It had once been the home of three braindead wood-burning steam locomotives, who'd eventually left for Ireland (after which the undersea tunnel connecting Misty to Sodor was closed up). But the three morons were back on the tree-filled island. Somehow.

It was now 5 p.m. The sun was gradually getting lower in the sky, and the Logging Locos were going back to their sheds.

"Today has been-" Bash began.

"-a good day!" Dash finished.

"That's right!" Ferdinand added.

The fog the island was famous for began to roll in. In the cover of the mist, a hand dropped a small orb on the ground, spilling its invisible contents into the air. The engines began to slow down.

"Why do I-" Bash yawned suddenly, his voice comically deep.

"-feel so tired?" Dash yawned too, his voice also deep.

"Your voices sound funny," Ferdinand yawned, his voice deep as well.

And then the engines passed out.

Men came out from the shadows and knocked out their drivers before taking them away. The three engines were already lined up single file, so it was easy for the shadowy men to couple them together.

From the darkness emerged a huge, hulking diesel engine. It said nothing as it backed down on the three steam engines and coupled up to them. The engine silently rolled away as fast as it came, taking the steam engines with it.

* * *

Sir Topham Hatt entered his house and closed the door. He made his way to a chair and slumped into it, exhausted.

"Busy day?" Lady Jane Hatt, his wife, asked.

"Very. I hate to say it, Jane, but I think I'm getting too old for this railway business."

"Nonsense! Topham, your mother is eighty-seven, and she's still very involved with the Northwestern even though she's retired! You're only sixty-three, and you're in much better health than your father was at this age! And besides, think about the engines. You wouldn't want to leave _them_ behind, would you?"

"I know all of that," Topham sighed. "I just wish I could have some help, what with you on Tidmouth City Council, our children schoolteachers, and Lowham a talk show host."

"Work's been slow on the council recently," Jane stated. "Perhaps I have some free time available for managing the railway. You could use the help."

"Right now, I could use a nap."

The telephone rang.

"Oh, bother that telephone!" He got out of his chair and picked up the phone. "Hello, this is Hatt Manor, Sir Topham speaking...A railway inspection? Well, this is unexpected...American, you say? Interesting...You brought your own engines? Whatever for?...You want to test our rolling stock, and you need engines whose functionality is familiar to you...Well that's okay...Electric? I'm sorry, but we don't have any catenary lines...We'll have to set them up? How much of the railway?...That much...Okay, I'll let you know when we're done..." Topham set the phone down, worried.

"What's wrong?" Jane asked.

"An inspector's coming. He wants us to electrify almost all of the Northwestern." Her husband groaned. "There aren't any electric lines on Sodor! None of us here know how to put up the wires!"

"Actually, Topham, there is _one_ part of Sodor that's electrified. Don't tell me you've forgotten about Peel Godred."

Topham slapped his forehead. "Of course. That line. It hasn't had traffic in so many years I forgot it was even there. Now I'll have to do all the needed paperwork, choose some of my engines to go, and-"

"No, you need your rest. I'll start the paperwork. I know Esther better anyway."

"I've yet to see the benefits of all this."

"Well..." Jane tried to figure out the right thing to say, before finally coming out with "at least now you can rescue electric Lifers like you've always wanted to do."

Topham looked at her. "You're right. There were plenty of electric engines who couldn't come to Sodor and wound up getting scrapped. Nikola and Lucy were some of the few who made it." He stood taller. "We will do it! But first, I need to lie down."

So he went upstairs to bed. Jane, meanwhile, called someone on the phone. "Oh, hi Esther! This is Jane. How's your husband? Good? Okay, listen, remember that project we promised we'd do when Topham became controller? Well, looks like we're doing it after all."

* * *

The hand on the other end finally set the phone down.

"How'd it go, boss?" asked a man in a gray uniform.

"Perfectly. Fatt Hatt bought the whole thing. He's even going to electrify the majority of his line. The fool. And the Lifers on this island?"

"They've been secured and have been brought to the Cutting Board. They haven't woken up yet. We're waiting for you, sir."

"Good." The owner of the hand stood up, revealing a man dressed like a motorcyclist. He walked out of his office, which was on the top of an enormous ship. He walked outside, down the stairs, and to a door. He opened the door and descended into the belly of the ship.

The Cutting Board had many smelter's pits and cutting torches. It was hot and stuffy. Bash, Dash, and Ferdinand were on three of the many lines of track inside. The diesel that brought them there was leaving and going into another massive room.

The engines woke up, immediately frightened. Then they saw who had brought them there.

The man dressed like a motorcyclist grinned. To his staff, he said "Misty Island is the perfect base of operations for our mission. The freak fog system completely hides us from radar. And it's right next door to the greatest concentration of Lifers in the world. We've hit the jackpot, boys and girls. And we will start our campaign of cleaning out Sodor with these three losers."

"Who are you?" the three engines asked.

"I'm the one who's going to send you to the lair of the devil. Call me...Pete Tiberius Boomer."

Boomer laughed a malicious laugh, grabbing a cutter's torch and a metal block with a square cross-section. On the left hind side of each of the engines, he cut a square out of them, using the block as a stencil. The engines winced in pain.

"Scrap 'em," Boomer said as he left with the three squares, and his evilly grinning followers descended on the three locomotives with gusto.

* * *

The agonizing screams of the Logging Locos as they died went unnoticed by the rest of the world.

Except for a certain gray coach on Sodor, who felt them die, and shuddered in her sleep.

* * *

 **Wow! Something big just happened! Ladies and gentlemen, meet the story's main antagonist!**

 **Peel Godred has been introduced into the series! Nikola and Lucy are the two Class 86's that you see on the new front cover. There are seven other engines who work the line. The line will debut in its own chapter later.**

 **So P.T. Boomer has just killed off the Logging Locos. Meanwhile the Hatts are organizing a big ordeal, not knowing Boomer isn't an actual railway inspector.**

 **Why is P.T Boomer scrapping engines? Will he be found out? What's Esther's controller nickname?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - On Diesels and Indignity!**


	9. On Diesels and Indignity

Thomas, Emily, and Rosie were on a hill overlooking a town, much like Diesel Ten had been earlier that day.

"So...yeah," Thomas said. "Big stuff."

"Yeah," Emily said. "So big that my fireman decided to go talk to Crana about her powers."

"And?"

"Her hands can be generated at will from her nanobots. She can sense whenever a vehicle comes alive, and whenever they die. She can't tell who dies until five months after they have, and she can never tell where they died or what killed them."

Thomas didn't bother asking how, since there was only one way to kill an engine: damaging it enough so it couldn't live anymore.

"Our friend the signalman knows more than he seems to," Emily added.

"Really?" Rosie asked, shocked.

"Turns out his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was the one who brought Crana to life. His family has felt responsible for protecting her ever since. Especially in 1892."

"What happened then?" Thomas inquired.

"That year, a man from America who hated Lifers announced he would go to Sodor and scrap the 'mystic coach' that let machines live. The signalman's ancestors were horrified by that, so they made a plan. Crana was hidden on the siding we found her on. Young children were told her story was made up, while older children were sworn to secrecy. All information about her was taken away and hidden. When the man came, the Sudrians told him Crana was just folklore, and he believed it and left. Eventually, Crana really did become folklore, but not to the signalman's family.

"The lever that diverted Thomas really was wonky, but the signalman trusts us to keep Crana safe. It's been 130 years since the day she was nearly killed...and we don't want it to happen again."

* * *

The three puffed to Tidmouth Sheds in silence. As they entered their berths, they couldn't help but notice Gordon was in a foul mood.

"What's wrong, Gordon?" Thomas asked. "Is Spencer here again?"

"It's even worse than that," Gordon groaned. "Diesel Ten was out today."

"He was WHAT?!" Thomas exclaimed.

"Yes! Rushing about for some reason. And now my coaches want to be pulled by HIM!" Gordon seethed. "Oh, the indignity!"

"You can't blame them, Gordon," Emily said. "Warships are meant to pull express coaches."

"Diesel Ten isn't a Warship, Emily! He's a Battleship, from America!" Gordon sighed. "American engines are always oh-so-strong to satisfy the American people's ego."

"As an American myself, I can tell you that's NOT why American engines are so much bigger than you guys tend to be," Rosie interrupted, angry about being insulted.

"Then why ARE they?"

"Because American engines have to pull bigger trains, with cars twice the size of the ones here, over long distances and rough terrain, without stopping for fuel nearly as often as we do. Diesel Ten isn't stronger and hardier than a real Class 42 for the heck of it; he has to be. It's why tank engines are so rare in America."

"Oh," Gordon said, and realized he'd offended her. "Sorry, Rosie. I guess I'm just too bothered to think straight."

"Apology accepted. But seriously, why WAS Diesel Ten out?"

"I saw Samson in the middle of the tracks this afternoon," James mused. "He wouldn't say why he was there."

"I can answer this," Edward spoke. He'd just arrived. After turning around on the turntable and entering his berth, he said "I met Billy at Vicarstown taking Bradford to the Mainland. Bradford was angry that Samson had left him behind, and Billy wasn't very happy to have Bradford nitpicking his work. When he came back, Billy told me everything."

"And?" Gordon asked.

Edward smiled. "Rusty got caught in a small rockslide at the Blue Mountain Quarry, and Billy helped with the repairs by getting some new parts for him. Diesel Ten was surprised that Billy was helping the diesels, but Billy actually stood up to him and convinced him to help him get Rusty back home. When he did, Samson thought Diesel Ten was useless." He began to chuckle. "So he challenged Diesel Ten to a race!"

"And Diesel Ten won, of course," Gordon laughed. "Silly Samson."

"Diesel Ten _wasn't_ doing something devious..." Thomas mumbled in disbelief. "Is that even possible?"

"Yes, it is." Edward's expression changed to a sterner one. "I'm still upset about what you did to him in 2000. After Diesel Ten was humiliated on international television by getting forbidden from The Golden Railway? And then what happened after that. I wish I hadn't been getting that siderod replaced so I could keep you from doing it."

"Doing what?" Rosie asked.

"You know the story of how Lady the magical engine was hurt by Diesel Ten?" Henry asked.

"Yeah?"

"Well, when we heard he was coming back to Sodor, the steam team of the day - except for Edward - decided to confront him and ask him why he did it. But Thomas wound up chasing after him...and driving him off a crumbling viaduct into a garbage barge."

"Thomas!" Emily snapped. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"Diesel Ten was going to scrap us!" Thomas exclaimed.

"No, he wasn't! And it's probably because of YOU that he hates us so much!" Gordon said crossly.

"He hurt the magical engine!"

"Maybe he didn't," Edward spoke up. "Don't you think it's a little weird?"

"What is?" Thomas asked, angry.

"If Lady's magic is all-powerful, why didn't she just use it to turn Diesel Ten into stone and keep him from hurting her?"

Silence. Thomas' eyes widened. "You're right...oh my Sodor."

"I think that story might have been false," Edward explained.

"I think so too," Emily said. "I was getting some of my wheels replaced in 2000 when I heard that the scrapyard they came from accidentally collapsed. It was around the same time the story about Lady came out. Maybe she was hurt in the same scrapyard."

"Maybe," Percy said. "But she's not here to tell us herself, so we may never know."

He had no idea how wrong he was.

* * *

Thomas, Emily, and Rosie were still awake when the others were asleep.

"I've been a really silly engine," Thomas sighed sadly. "It's my fault Diesel Ten hates us more than the other steamers. At the Dieselworks, back in 2011...he wanted me there so he could pay me out."

"Thomas, we all do stupid things at some point in our lives," Emily said soothingly. "I was mean and bossy for five years because I let a few comments from James and Gordon get under my frames."

"And I did a lot of stupid things in America before I came here," Rosie added. "I'm not allowed in Colorado again because I caused a huge derailment. Maybe Diesel Ten just wanted you at the Dieselworks so he could tell you everything you did to him was wrong."

"You're right. He didn't mean to cause the fire, either." Thomas groaned. "I wish Lady was here so we could sort out this whole mess once and for all."

Little did he know his wish was going to come true.

* * *

 **Diesel Ten does seem to single Thomas out more than the other engines. I think he wanted Thomas held hostage for revenge purposes. Don't worry, he would've just told Thomas off very sternly.**

 **Now we know Thomas isn't perfect, and the Steam Team has begun to realize maybe the story of Lady isn't so true.**

 **Will the Steam Team be let in on the truth? Will Diesel Ten and Thomas patch things up? How will Lady be revealed?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - Found Out!**


	10. Found Out

At Ffarquhar quarry, Derek and Mavis were getting ready to turn in. They were in a shed, chatting quietly about the day.

"I don't know how you do it, Derek," Mavis said. "You're gentle with the trucks. But how?"

"I don't want to hurt them," Derek replied. "And they don't want to hurt me in return. It's an unspoken truce between us, like the one some trucks have with Peter Sam."

Mavis smiled. "Well, we got the yard in shape regardless." Her expression changed. "Did Bill and Ben seem awfully...quiet today?"

"Now that you mention it, they _did_ seem a little better-behaved than they normally are," Derek mused.

"Do you think they're up to something?"

"I don't know. Usually, around me they're a lot nicer. I think they must have a list of engines they refuse to play tricks on, engines like Molly and myself." He yawned. "Goodnight, Mavis. It was a pleasure being here again."

"You too."

And they fell asleep.

* * *

Mavis' worries were not unfounded. Bill and Ben were indeed up to something. Having convinced their drivers and firemen to stay into the night, the saddletanks were outside the tunnel.

Ben backed down on the train, whose first few cars protruded from the tunnel. "Anyone around?"

"Nope," Bill replied. "Pull away. Get every last truck out."

Ben did as he was told. At the back end of the train, Lady stirred in her sleep when she began to move. Burnett Stone was still asleep in her cab. Eventually, Lady was out in the open. When Bill saw her, his jaw dropped.

"Is everything okay, Bill?" Ben asked.

"Y-yes...driver, uncouple the train from the engine."

His driver, shaking in his boots, complied. Ben pulled the train away and put it into a siding. He got himself turned around and returned to a line next to the tunnel.

"Alright, let's see just who we've got here," Ben said. "It'll be nice to meet a new friend; maybe she'll want to help us prank the other engines. Bill?"

Bill was silent. It was then that Ben noticed Lady.

"The Lost Engine," Ben breathed. "The stories were true! Bill, it's the magical engine! We've found her!"

Lady jolted awake. She saw the twins in front of her. "W-what do you want from me?"

"You're the source of the gold dust!" Bill exclaimed, finally exiting his trance. "How did you get fixed?"

"Does your railway know you're here?" Ben asked.

"Do you have any gold dust?" Ben stared at Bill. "It's a valid question!"

"N-no, this isn't good," Lady began to panic. Her driver was awake now too, and Stone saw that they were out. "You got that right," Stone gulped.

"This is amazing! We've got to tell everyone!" Bill said. "This is the discovery of a lifetime! She's going to be famous!"

Lady trembled. Then she screamed, and hastily puffed out of the quarry.

Derek and Mavis exited their shed. "What's going on here?" a groggy Mavis asked.

Derek saw Lady rush out of the quarry. He glared at Bill and Ben. "I told you NOT to try and find out who she was," Derek groaned.

"You KNEW she was here!" Ben exclaimed.

"I do. She wanted out of The Golden Railway. So she had Murdoch, Billy and I smuggle her out away from the prying public."

"I can see why you'd have to do that," Mavis said. "She's magical, after all."

"No, she isn't!" This caught the others offguard. "Lady is not any more supernatural than stones and wood. The stories about her were a lie meant to make money for a newspaper. I wouldn't be surprised if someone made a shoddy movie adaptation out of them, they're so popular."

"So why did you hide her?" Ben asked.

"She's not good with being in the spotlight, as I've told you before. And if you talked to her about fame, which I'm sure you did, you scared her off."

"We didn't mean it," Bill said. "We just wanted to find out who she was. It was Ben's idea anyway."

"MY idea?! It was yours!"

"Knock it off, both of you!" Mavis snapped. "We've got a frightened engine now, who's probably lost! You should've waited until she was comfortable enough to show her face!"

Derek sighed. "I hope Lady's alright."

* * *

Lady was rushing down the main line at high speed. "Slow down, girl!" Stone exclaimed. "I can barely keep up with you!"

But Lady couldn't slow down. All she could do was remember something from her distant past...

 _September 17, 1982. Lady had only been brought to life a few days earlier, and had been sent to live and work at Muffle Mountain, a Lifer railway in western Pennsylvania. She was painted dark green back then, with a black smokebox and stripes, making her reminiscent of the GWR 101 she was based on._

 _Today was supposed to have been a good day, but it hadn't been. As the sun began to set, three of the engines had pulled a mean prank on her, and Lady was now covered in raw sewage._

 _"You are NOTHING!" a PRR K4 roared, finishing a profanity-laden tirade at her. "You don't deserve to be here."_

 _Lady started crying._

 _"Yeah, that's right, cry like the little baby you are," sneered the Reading Crusader on the K4's left._

 _"Get lost!" added the PRR Q1 on the K4's right._

 _And Lady did, running away from the crowd laughing at her, tears streaming down her face._

Back in the present, Lady found a vacant shed. She got turned around, backed into it, and cried. Stone leapt out of her cab and tried to comfort her, but it was no use.

"Um...excuse me?"

Lady looked up to the source of the feminine voice, and had another flashback.

 _Lady looked up in awe at the voice's source. She was an EMD GP9, tall and imposing. But she had a softer, more motherly look to her than the three steam engines Lady had the displeasure of meeting._

 _"Don't cry, little one," the diesel cooed. "Today was rough, but we all have bad days. And we all have good days, too. I know, it's hard to deal with Kim, Miley, and Taylor sometimes; I've lived on this railway my whole life. But don't let them keep you down. You are strong, you are powerful. Because you are you."_

 _Lady stopped crying._

 _"What's your name?" the diesel asked.  
_

 _A faint blush spread across Lady's cheeks as the diesel's soothing voice rippled through her frame. "Lady," the tank engine said meekly._

 _"Well, Lady, let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"_

"Hello?"

Lady snapped out of her flashback and saw a yellow GER S46 in front of her. "Oh, sorry. I spaced out there for a sec."

The Claud Hamilton squinted. "...Lady? Of The Golden, Lady? Are you actually magical?"

"No."

The other engine squealed in delight. "I knew it! You're just like the rest of us! No offense."

"None taken."

The other engine chuckled. "I'm Molly. It's such an honor to meet you."

"Y'know, I think your sister works at The Golden," Lady said.

"Yeah, Vanna's my sister all right." Molly sighed. "If only I could be recognized as special too."

"Eh, special's overrated. Being one of a million's a lot better, believe you me."

"Well, to each their own, I guess."

"Listen, can I stay here for tonight? I'm trying to hide from two yellow chumps who outed me."

"Pay no mind to Bill and Ben. They're mostly harmless, just very annoying. But yes, you can stay here."

Molly turned herself around on the turntable and slid in front of Lady, obscuring her from view. Then the girls fell asleep.

* * *

 **Our first look at Muffle Mountain! Looks like there are bullies here. Kim is the K4, Miley is the Crusader, Taylor is the Q1. Connor and Caitlin are from the same railway. All female engines on Muffle Mountain (except Lady) are painted reddish-purple with light blue stripes (e.g. Caitlin), while all male engines are painted teal with white stripes (e.g. Connor)**

 **The GP9 is an important character, so look out for her.**

 **Lady has been found out and ran away. Now everyone is worried for her wellbeing.**

 **What will happen the next morning? Will Billy learn about this? And when are Diesel Ten and Lady going to meet already?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter - Chance Encounter!**


	11. Chance Encounter

Diesel Ten woke early in the morning. Having nothing better to do, he decided to talk to his claw.

"Well, Pinchy," the diesel mused, "I'd never thought I'd see the day. A steamer working for diesels." He sighed. Then he realized something, and his eyes bugged out. "A steam engine... _at_ _the Dieselworks?!_ He doesn't have the right kind of fuel here!"

His driver arrived. "Driver! We need to go out and find an extra coal car!" Diesel Ten exclaimed. His driver raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not up to anything. I'll explain on the way."

His driver jumped into his engine's front cab and turned his ignition on. Now that he was started, Diesel Ten was able to move under his own power, and away he went.

* * *

Lady awoke to a beam of light in her eye. Molly had backed out of the shed.

"I have to go now," Molly said. "My crew left some food for your driver, and an oil can for you."

"Well I'll be," Burnett Stone said, sitting up. "Your crew is as sweet as you are." With that, he began to attack one of the bagels.

Molly giggled. "Much obliged."

"So...you know of anything I could do?" Lady asked. "I mean, I can't hide here forever. That wouldn't be really useful of me, now would it?"

"There's a shunting yard up at Tidmouth," Molly replied. "It's not much, but then again you _are_ a shunter, right?"

"What's a shunter?" Lady asked. Molly stared at her, confused. "Oh, you mean _switcher_. I forgot about the whole language barrier thing. Yeah, I can do that."

"She's got a gift," Stone remarked. "She can organize a train in under two minutes. And since here everything's more her size, she's probably going to be even faster."

"Well, good luck. Bye!" Molly called. She got herself turned around and left.

Stone opened Lady's bunker and began to pour the contents of the oil can into it. Lady sighed happily. "Ah, I love the smell of fossilized algae in the morning."

"Alright, you should have enough fuel to last today," Stone said. "Let's go, girl." He climbed back into Lady's cab, started her, and released her brakes. Lady, swiftly and quietly, began to make her way to Tidmouth.

* * *

Diesel Ten was nearing Tidmouth Harbor. "C'mon, there's gotta be some coal cars here somewhere!"

"What do you mean, _sixteen_?!"

Diesel Ten heard this and decided to investigate. He found Duck, a long train of coal trucks, and a foreman. Duck did not look amused.

"We were only supposed to get fourteen trucks!" Duck complained.

"I'm sorry, there must've been a slip-up and we accidentally got two extras," the foreman was saying.

Duck sighed. "This never would have happened on the Great Western, I tell you."

"Let it go, Duck," his driver soothed him.

"Oi! Pannier!"

Duck looked up and saw Diesel Ten. He gulped, but then set his eyes into a glare. "And what do _you_ want, diesel?"

"Diesel is elsewhere. This is Diesel Ten. Don't confuse us. Anyhow, I think I may be able to take those extra cars off your buffers."

"Are you going to try and destroy our fuel?" The No. 8 inquired.

"No, contrary to popular belief, I DO have standards. I need them for legitimate business purposes."

Duck sighed. "Alright, but I'm warning you, if you're lying, you'll be facing my wrath."

"Which one of us has the claw again?" Diesel Ten reminded him.

Duck's eyes widened and he quickly gave the two extra trucks to Ten along with a brakevan.

"I want no trouble out of you," Ten rumbled to the trucks. The three girls quickly shut their mouths.

Diesel Ten blew his horn and left the harbor, leaving Duck shaking in his wheels.

* * *

Lady made it to Tidmouth Yards, narrowly missing meeting Diesel Ten by virtue of Hiro being on the track between theirs, preventing them from seeing each other. She looked around at the trucks before her. "Not bad, not bad, setup seems pretty basic. This'll be new model's play," she smirked.

"Hey there little engine!" came an annoyingly cheery voice. A diesel boxcab not much bigger than Lady rolled up next to her. "My name's Philip. What's yours?"

"Lady, as evidenced by it being on my tanks," his fellow American replied. "You work here?"

"Yep! Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes I get to deliver things. Have you ever delivered anything?" Lady was about to reply when he cut her off with "I've never seen an engine like you. Hey, I should tell everyone you're here! They like making new friends."

"No no no, don't...how do I say this?" Lady quickly thought up an answer. "I'm actually kinda shy, so...let me introduce myself to them when I'm ready. And don't tell anyone I'm here."

"Oh, okay!" Philip said. He raced off.

Lady chuckled, then rolled into the yard to begin her tenure.

* * *

"MOVE IT, STEAMER!" Arry snapped.

"I want to, but I can't! I'm out of coal!" Billy exclaimed. He had gotten stuck in front of the sheds on his way out. Arry needed to be inspected, and he didn't want to be late.

A familiar horn blared in the distance. Soon, Diesel Ten rolled up with two coal trucks and a brakevan.

"Oh, thank you, Diesel Ten. You're a lifesaver," Billy sighed, relieved. His crew grabbed some buckets and began to fill them with coal.

"No need to do that," Diesel Ten said. He raised his claw, then pivoted it behind him. It dropped down, but it couldn't reach the trucks. Diesel Ten then did something surprising – he began to extend the length of the arm until it hit the coal. Ten scooped it up, pivoted it back around, then dropped the coal into Billy's bunker.

"This will serve as an incentive," Ten remarked. "To keep doing your job if you want to stay."

"So he DOES have a heart," Billy smirked. He rolled out of the way and Arry rushed into the Dieselworks.

"Did you see what just happened, Mr. Renchmoore?" Arry asked the human supervisor of the Dieselworks.

"I did," Renchmoore replied, smiling. "Wait until Hatt hears about this."

* * *

"Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"To get to the other side?"

"How did you know that?"

"You've been reusing the same jokes for ten years." Charlie had decided to practice his repertoire with Stanley, who was not interested. "And shouldn't you be shunting James' scrap train?" Stanley asked impatiently.

Charlie's eyes bugged out. "Egads! I'm late!"

But just before he could shunt the trucks together, a smaller purple shunter beat him to it. She quickly and effortlessly assembled the entire train, then began to push it to James.

"C'mon, Charlie, get on with it!" James growled. "I hate having to take this train as it is; the least you could do is make it snappy!"

The train bonked into James' tender, the force causing the chain on the front truck to fly up and attach to James' bufferbeam on its own.

"That snappy enough for ya?" Lady asked from behind him.

James left, but was very confused as to what happened. "Who was that?" he asked himself.

Stanley puffed up to Lady. "Not bad. First time?"

"Here, yes," Lady replied. "In general, no. For me, switching is more than just tedium; it's an art form that's grossly underappreciated."

"Interesting take," Stanley remarked.

Charlie stood there dumbly. "I was going to get that!" he protested.

"No, you weren't. You were too busy focused on goofing off and not enough on doing your _job_. And multitasking won't cut it; you'll just make the train wrong," Lady said bluntly.

"She's right," Stanley said to Charlie. "Remember that time Annie and Clarabel were accidentally added to Caitlin's train? It happened because you were telling her a joke while working. We need you to pay more attention to your work, Charlie, and for your sake, stop joking around."

"I would've used a stronger word than 'joking'," Lady muttered to herself.

Charlie eventually gave up and left. Lady looked at Stanley and asked "Caitlin? As in, ex-B&O 5304 Caitlin?"

"Yes. You know her?"

"We were on the same heritage railway." Lady chuckled. Then she realized something. "Oh my Baldwin, they sold Connor and Caitlin?! That's sucky."

"I imagine it is, Lady," Stanley sighed.

"...You know who I am?"

"Don't worry, I KNOW the whole thing was a scam. Your secret is safe with me."

"And the perky green tic-tac, don't forget him."

"Wait. You actually got Philip to keep his mouth shut?"

* * *

"Impressive, Mr. Renchmoore! Diesel Ten is finally being really useful on his own volition. Taking care of extra coal trucks AND helping another engine in need!" Sir Topham Hatt was in his office, with painted metal dummies of some of the engines on a map of Sodor.

"Yes, sir. Do you have any other jobs Ten could do?" Renchmoore asked from the other end of the phone.

Sir Topham Hatt noticed a piece of paper with a list of places on it in need of oil. Then he looked out the window and saw, to his surprise, a Baldwin 101 1/2 shunting Henry's flatbeds, scurrying off as soon as the train was coupled to a bewildered Henry.

Hatt pulled out a metal steamer dummy that was painted reddish-purple and placed it at Tidmouth. Then, using a wooden stick, pushed a gold-colored dummy of a diesel from the bottom of the map, around Vicarstown, next to the purple steamer. A sly grin spread across his face.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

* * *

"Diesel Ten, Hatt has a job for you," Renchmoore said to the massive engine.

"Please, sir, not another scrap run."

"Not today, Ten."

"Oh, thank EMD."

"You need to get some empty fuel tankers to Burrow-at-Furness to get them refilled. Then I want you to distribute them to every location on this slip of paper," he continued, producing a list that Ten's driver got out and took. "The tankers are at Tidmouth Yard. The engines who, _ahem_ , tolerate you are not in the area, so you don't have to worry about them."

"Alright. Fuel run. Tanker cars. England. On it." The diesel left.

"Billy, you've been called to Ffarquhar to help out. No word on what, just be there promptly."

"Promptly. I can do promptly."

* * *

"What do you mean, she's gone?!"

Derek sighed. "She ran off last night and we haven't had a chance to find her. Bill and Ben are taking her place as punishment, though," he added, his eyes pointing to the twin saddletanks pulling some trucks out of the tunnel.

"Now she's Hatt-knows-where and probably lost!" Billy groaned. "We have to find her!"

"I know, but we don't have the time, Billy! Work comes first, you know that!"

"Actually," came a timid voice, "I think I know where she is."

They looked to see Molly puff in with some empties. "I told her she may like shunting at Tidmouth, seeing that there are many shunters there and most of the time you don't see them. She's most likely there as we speak."

"I'll have to go when my jobs are done," Billy murmured.

"Don't rush," Derek reminded him. "We still need you to help out with filling the trucks for an order of stone bound for Harwick."

Billy sighed and got to work.

* * *

"Lady!"

Lady jumped in her chassis. She saw Sir Topham Hatt walking towards her and gulped. "Sir, I can explain–"

"No need," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Mr. Wellington transferred your contract to me as soon as he noticed you were missing. He figured you had been smuggled to Sodor, and to tell you the truth, he was happy you'd finally gotten away from that horrid scandal."

"So does this mean–"

"Correct. Welcome to the Northwestern, Lady. Burnett Stone, it will be a pleasure to work with you," he added towards Lady's driver.

Lady whistled in glee. "Oh, thank you, sir! I won't let you down!"

"Now, I want you to assemble a train, all fuel tankers, and push it to Track Five. An engine will be coming to pick it up soon, so get on it."

"Right. Fuel tankers are the yellow ones, right?"

"Yes. Take care, Lady."

As Lady began to race towards a lifeless yellow tanker, Hatt walked back into his office. Checking the clock, he said to himself "Ten shall be here any moment now."

* * *

And he was. Diesel Ten slid down the track, ignoring the frightened stares of passerby.

"I'm never going to get this topiary right!" a gardener groaned, staring at a massive rosebush that was supposed to be shaped like an elephant in worry.

Diesel Ten rolled past it and, using his claw, snapped a large chunk of the bush clean off, making it look a lot more like an elephant.

The gardener snipped an errant leaf and sighed in relief. "Now that's more like it."

Diesel Ten, meanwhile, neared a signalbox. A cocky smirk, showing off sharp canine teeth, emerged. Ten raised the piece of bush above him, catching the attention of the signalman. The points changed, and Diesel Ten was now headed towards Tidmouth Yard. With no further need for the vegetation, he carelessly tossed it aside.

One of the roses landed in a man's hand, and when his wife turned around and saw it, she gave him a big hug. "You remembered our anniversary!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah..."

* * *

Diesel Ten arrived and parked himself on Track Five. Behind him, Lady had just finished collecting all the tankers, and was now headed towards a live brakevan.

"Oooh, lookit the little shunter, I'm SO scared!" the brakevan said sarcastically.

"Listen, you," Lady growled, "I've dealt with cars twice your size and five times as ornery. Compared to them, your tricks are _nothing_. So I suggest you behave yourself. Got that, you tiny, malnourished caboose?"

The brakevan whimpered.

"I'll take that as a yes." Lady bumped him onto the end of the tanker train and pushed it to Track Five, slowing down until she hit something. Being so short, she couldn't see who it was, as the trucks were taller than she was.

"Well, talk about proper service," Diesel Ten remarked.

"I try," Lady smiled. She thought the smooth, suave voice of the male engine sounded oddly familiar, but didn't dwell too much on it.

"I admit, your promptness IS something I value. I've heard one of the switchers here spends all his time telling bad jokes."

"That would be accurate." She realized something. "Wait. Did you say 'switcher' instead of 'shunter'?"

"Yes, I'm an American citizen. Who wants to know?" Diesel Ten swore he'd heard that enchanting voice, feisty and gentle at the same time, before.

"Nothing, I just happen to also be American in origin."

"Small world, huh?"

The guard's whistle blew. "Take care, darling. We _must_ meet again. I quite enjoy your company," Diesel Ten said as he began to pull away.

"As do I," Lady replied. "Till we meet again–"

Then, as he went around the bend, she finally saw who she was talking to, and her jaw dropped.

" _Diesel Ten?!_ " she said in hushed tones.

"You were literally flirting with danger," Stone remarked. "I guess you must like bad boys."

"Quiet, you."

* * *

Later that day, Thomas was dropping off Annie and Clarabel when he saw a female engine he didn't recognize. Deciding to try his luck, he said "Heyyyy."

"Do I know you?" Lady asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You've never heard of Thomas? NWR Number One?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, you. We call you something else where I'm from."

"Really useful?" Thomas grinned.

"Star-billing bas–"

"Lady!" Billy said, rushing into the yard. "Thank goodness. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Hatt knows about the whole shebang, by the way, but luckily he's fine with it." She sighed, wistfully.

"What's wrong?"

"I met Diesel Ten."

Thomas' eyes widened. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, neither of us saw each other. I doubt he even knows I'm here. Still, I want to apologize...for getting him into this mess..."

Billy understood. "I'll tell Sir Topham Hatt to send you to Vicarstown by sunset, before Diesel Ten gets back from delivering the fuel."

"Thanks. You're a real friend."

"Oh, and Billy, you may want to clear out soon," Thomas added hastily.

"Why?" Billy asked.

Charlie pulled up next to his brother. "Hiya Billy!"

"OH COME ON!"

* * *

Diesel Ten returned to the Dieselworks. The sun was almost gone. "Two good days in a row. Life is looking good," he said to himself. He noticed the other engines, who looked a little frightened. "You guys alright? It looks like you saw a ghost. Or worse, Dowager Hatt in her swimsuit." He grimaced at the memory. "Anyway, I'm gonna turn in for the night."

He rolled up to his shed, but to his surprise, the doors opened for him.

Inside the shed, though, was something that made Diesel Ten's eyes narrow.

" _You,_ " he breathed.

"Uh...hi?" Lady squeaked.

* * *

 **End of Act One.**


	12. Reunited

**(AN: I made this story many moons ago, I'm just now putting it up. The following review of reviews is an addition to the original document).**

 **With another five chapters up, let's get to reviews!**

 **jriddle41, on the love triangle: Glad you like it. That was a nod to the fandom rivalry between Thomily/Thomrose. Me personally, I ship both with Thomas simply on the basis of compatible personalities.**

 **Guest, on Lady's backstory: Yes, poor Lady indeed. Bill and Ben didn't know any better, they just let their impatience get the better of them. It is our sincere hope that quarry work will sort them out.**

 **Guest, on Ladyten: Diesel Ten's not so bad, just misunderstood. But yes, I ship it. Ladyten is my TTTE OTP.**

 **Guest, on the reunion: Go read chapter eleven if you haven't yet. Boomer and Stone have met in the past, actually, but Boomer and Lady have not (yet). And thanks for liking the story!**

 **Speaking of the reunion, let's start Act Two already!**

* * *

Diesel Ten and Lady stared at each other. It had been twenty-two years, but they felt like yesterday was when they last saw each other.

Lady had been professionally restored, and her paintwork looked new. Ten privately wished her livery wasn't such a sissy color for an engine – dark red would suit her much better, he thought – but he couldn't get his way all the time. In fact, the only signs of Lady's accident were a few subtle scars crisscrossing her face.

Diesel Ten had seen better days. Lady had thought his golden paint looked splendid when they met; now it was faded and chipped in several places, with a huge piece of his bufferbeam devoid of paint altogether. His claw had rusted and the wires controlling it were frayed in multiple places; it was a miracle he could still use it. And his face; he looked short on sleep, and unfathomably gloomy. He was definitely not the same engine she once knew.

"Well?" Ten asked. Lady looked at him. He continued. "Are you here to mock me? Tell me I'm garbage? Or are you going to tell me my kind is inferior?" he added, his eyes narrowing at the last. "Because if so, I have one thing to say about that." His arm involuntarily raised.

Lady did not react. She stood her ground.

"I'm sorry."

Lady was caught offguard.

Diesel Ten sighed and lowered his arm. "I hurt you. Really, really bad. I should've been more careful. Not like you'd care about whether or not I looked out for you; to you, I'm just a dumb diesel."

"You remember that?" Lady asked.

Diesel Ten nodded to the best of the ability someone lacking a neck could, looking away ashamedly.

"Oh...oh, Diesel Ten," Lady murmured, crying a little. "I shouldn't have said that. I wasn't thinking straight, and I didn't mean to hurt you. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I didn't want you to be the bad guy."

"Then you should've said something as soon as you came to," Ten growled. "Ugh, steamers."

"What is your problem with steam engines?" Lady asked, angry.

"Steamers have a tendency to look out for themselves and themselves alone. Not helped by the fact your kind are the iconic locomotives. Whenever someone says 'train', they always picture a steamer pulling it. So when, through no fault of our own, diesels like myself come to replace steamers like you...let's just say people don't take it well.

"Especially at Mesa Roja. The founders didn't care about power source, just as long as you were useful. The people who took over after they retired? Horribly biased. Diesels and electrics couldn't have their own liveries and always, ALWAYS got the crap jobs."

"Is there more?"

"Oh, is there. Did you actually think 'Diesel Ten' is my name? It isn't. We diesels of Mesa Roja COULDN'T use OUR OWN **NAMES** or we'd get in trouble! We had to address ourselves by purchase order." Ten snarled. "And to top it all off, three of the steamers, who had bad attitude problems, mind you, ALWAYS GOT THEIR WAY! And if they hurt US?! **FORGET REPORTING THEM, BECAUSE THE SUPERVISORS NEVER BLOODY LISTENED TO DIESELS!** "

Ten's eyes were starting to turn red, and his voice was starting to lower its tone. But Diesel Ten realized this, and quickly snapped back to normal. "Sorry..." he said, tears starting to form. "I-I have problems controlling my temper sometimes, and I don't want to hurt you again."

He was surprised when Lady rolled up a little and placed her buffers against his.

"I know what that's like," Lady said quietly. "I was the smallest engine at my old railroad. There were three steam engines at my old railway who teased me all the time. And they drove me nuts. One day, I snapped, and, well...I told one of them her face looked like a caboose's...caboose."

"...You used a stronger word, didn't you?"

"I have a serious potty mouth," Lady admitted sheepishly. "Before Derek, Murdoch, and Billy met me they didn't know there was a swear word for the letter 'u'." She chuckled sadly. "I got kicked off my railway and ended up here, and you know the rest. Thrown out by the same three engines who covered me in raw sewage my first day there."

Ten's jaw dropped. "That's...that's outrageous! That's Engine Cruelty! That's as bad as that time I got sugar in my fuel tanks!"

"What?"

"Some idiot poured sugar into my fuel tanks once." He shuddered. "Worst pain I've ever felt. I've had a fear of the stuff ever since."

"Poor baby," Lady cooed. "I guess we've both had our share of misfortune. But hey, it can only get better, right?"

"I guess."

"Besides, not all steamers are bad. Billy enjoys working with you, and...well, I came here because I _wanted_ to talk to you, didn't I?"

There was an awkward silence.

"Well, I should probably let you into your shed. It felt good to get all of this off my boiler, but I have to go now," Lady spoke. After some maneuvering, Diesel Ten was in his shed, and Lady was puffing out. But before she did, Diesel Ten made a decision and said, "Dominic."

Lady stopped. "What?"

"My name. My real name. 'Nick' for short."

"Well, Nick, it was a pleasure seeing you again. Toodles!"

And Lady left.

* * *

"What kind of a name is 'Nick' for such a scary engine?!" Diesel exclaimed incredulously.

"Actually, it's quite fitting," Den said.

"What does he mean?" Diesel asked Dart.

"'Dominic' comes from the same word as 'dominate'. Diesel Ten's real name must be Dominic so people would know how powerful he is," Dart explained.

"Huh."

A little away from the others, Billy looked at Diesel Ten's shed, happy.

He'd succeeded at part one.

* * *

Emily looked around, then quickly scooted onto Crana's siding, and found the coach looking distraught. "What's wrong?"

"I felt three engines die last night."

"Oh...Must've been a bad accident, huh?"

"Normally, trucks die in accidents, and if an engine dies it's usually only one. But no trucks died last night, yet three engines did. No, someone...is scrapping engines."

* * *

From the control room on the massive boat, P. T. Boomer looked out over the water.

"Soon, Sodor! I'm coming for you, and your precious Lifer railway is history!" He cackled, then started coughing. "Alright, who farted?"

* * *

Diesel Ten was asleep in his shed, processing the day's events. It had been quite an adventure, but he could rest easy knowing that Lady was okay.

 **Dominic.**

Diesel Ten bolted awake, his eyes wide with fear. He knew that feminine voice very well.

 **Don't worry about me.**

 **You will be alright.**

 **And you will find love once again.**

* * *

 **They finally reunite!**

 **Crana feels something is afoot. And Diesel Ten's past is coming back to haunt him.**

 **What happens when D10 loses his temper completely? What does Boomer have in mind for Sodor? And will the Steam Team realize that "Steamie" is actually a racial slur?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter – The Project!**


	13. The Project

At Tidmouth Sheds, the engines waited for Sir Topham Hatt to arrive. He did, and climbed on the crate he used to get his voice to carry further. "Good morning!"

"Morning, sir!" Edward responded. "What's on the table today?"

"Something most peculiar, Edward. We're having an inspection."

"How would an inspection be peculiar?" Henry asked.

"I can think of a few ways," James smirked.

"Like using bootlaces to fix a brakepipe in one of your coaches?" Thomas suggested. James seethed while Percy and Rosie snickered.

"No. An American inspector named P. T. Boomer is bringing his own locomotives to test our rails and rolling stock."

"That _is_ odd," Gordon murmured. "We've never had an inspector want to do that before."

"Yes, I admit, I was confused as well. But we must do what he says. And he wants us to put up overhead wires so his two electric engines can ride the rails."

"And you want us to help get the supplies for them?" Thomas concluded.

"Precisely. In three day's time, you will be going to the Peel Godred branchline to pick up some extra supplies and workmen who know how to put up the wires. Edward and Henry have both been there during my father's tenure as controller, so they shall guide you there."

Edward looked at Henry, who was thinking. "It'd be nice to see Lucy again," the green engine said to himself.

"But what about our jobs, sir?" Percy asked.

"Thankfully, we have more than enough engines to take your places. Billy and Timothy will take Thomas and Percy's places, respectively. Toby will not be assisting us because of his limited fuel capacity, unfortunately, but he'll be in charge until we return."

"I know Timothy's responsible, but...Billy?" Percy asked skeptically.

"Billy's changed a lot since he accidentally got you covered in coal," Thomas reminded him. "He's less excitable and pays better attention to instructions."

Hatt continued. "Edward, I found BoCo on the mainland recently, and he will be taking up your jobs while you're gone." Edward beamed at this, knowing his old friend was going to return. "Murdoch will cover for Henry, Molly for James, and Derek for Emily."

"What about Gordon?" James asked.

"Sorry I can't pull dirty trucks, I've got the express," Gordon boasted.

"Actually, your coaches have been talking, and I have been listening, and...Diesel Ten will pull the Nor'wester while you're gone."

"WHAT?!"

* * *

"I'm going to do _what_?!" Diesel Ten said in disbelief, his claw slack from the shock.

"Pull the Wild Nor'wester. Gordon's going to work on a construction project, and you're the only one with a comparable top speed. As a replicant of a class designed for passenger service, you should be fine."

"I haven't done a passenger run in a very long time," Diesel Ten reminded Mr. Renchmoore. "Will I really be alright?"

"You're the most intelligent engine on the railway. Figure it out." And the foreman left.

Diesel Ten growled, but then he noticed Paxton and Sidney shunting in the yard. Diesel was coming in with a train of fuel tankers, and the Iron twins were idling.

Diesel Ten got an idea.

Diesel Ten got a wonderful idea.

Diesel Ten got a wonderful, awful idea.

* * *

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," Bert muttered. All the Class 8s, plus Dennis, were coupled together into a train.

"Shove it!" Arry snapped. "We need to help the boss prove that diesels can be just as good as those steamie suck-ups!"

"Why am I here?" Dennis asked from the back, not really caring.

"We needed a brake coach but ran out of my class," Bert replied.

"Okay," Diesel Ten said, backing down on Paxton, who was at the front. "You will be dummy coaches so I have a little practice before Friday. I will pull you from here to Knapford, and don't forget to comment along the way, I need your input so my performance is as good as it can be. There are six of you, one for each coach. Any questions? No? Well then LET'S GO!"

Diesel Ten's engine roared to life, and left the Dieselworks with his very unusual train rattling behind him.

"He's gonna get himself killed," Dart said, shocked.

"Don't be so uncertain. The boss is tough," Den replied.

"Physically, yes. But he's still very mentally fragile. Not to mention short on sleep. Something scared him last night, but he won't tell us what."

"Do you think..." Norman began, "That he's starting to remember something from his past?"

"I don't know, but it'll be a while before we find out."

* * *

Henry was making his way down the main line, testing his memory of where Peel Godred split off, when Diesel Ten's train roared past.

"SLOW DOWN!" he heard Diesel shriek.

"You're just not used to high speeds! This is only sixty miles per hour!" Diesel Ten was heard retorting. " _Your_ top speed's only twenty!" And they were gone as fast as they'd come.

"...Huh?" Henry asked himself.

* * *

Diesel Ten pulled into a siding next to Knapford Station. He took a quick breath. "Alright! Anyone know my time?"

"'Bout an hour and four," Bert replied.

"So exciting," Dennis mumbled, though his face had more emotion than it normally did.

It was at that moment that Stanley pushed Gordon's coaches into position on another track.

"Hey there, Ten!" Carly, the coach at the front, called to the 42 1/2. "We'll see you in a few days!"

"DON'T remind me," Gordon grumbled.

"Hey, lighten up, big guy," the third coach in the train, Marli, said. "You get to triple-head for the first time in what, fifty years?"

"Well, there is that," Gordon admitted. His guard blew the whistle, and he left.

"Wait," Arry said. "Those coaches look bigger than us."

"They are," Diesel Ten realized. "Oh, bugger, I got confused. You guys are the same size as BRANCHLINE coaches, not express coaches. Dang, I just realized that. And there isn't anyone here close enough to the coaches in terms of size." He sighed.

"What about Daisy?" Diesel asked.

"You know," Diesel Ten said, quickly connecting the dots, "Diesel, you may just be useful for something for once."

"Thanks- wait, what?"

* * *

Lady shoved some trucks together. "And that's the last of you guys for the outbound waste train." She sighed. "Whew. I haven't had a day like this in years. Feels good to get work done that I actually like."

"AAAAAAAAAAAH THIS IS BAD FOR MY SWERVES!"

Lady stared, dumbfounded, as Diesel Ten rushed by, Daisy pulled along behind him and not liking the ride one bit.

"MADAM, I WILL ASK YOU THIS ONCE AND ONCE ONLY!" Diesel Ten replied. "WHAT. THE. BLOODY. WHAT. IS. A. **SWERVE?!** "

"...Okay, that happened," Lady said, although there was a hint of jealousy in her voice.

* * *

On the mainland, Samson was grumbling to himself as he pulled a stone train.

"Slow down, Samson! We mustn't be a meter above the speed limit!" Bradford barked from the back.

"Please! Those speed-seeing things can't discern that well." He sighed. "Shown up by that improper diesel indeed! He just got lucky, that's all."

"You abandoned your train and made us late," Bradford replied. "I had to go back to the yard with that back-talking Manning Wardle. Really, orange is NOT a proper color for an engine! Unless it's one of those big west American steamers, and there's only the one of them left!"

They were switched onto a track that went through a forest. "Samson...I think we should turn back," Bradford said, worried.

"Nonsense! We'll be heading back to Sodor in no time."

Suddenly, the air felt heavy, and then they fell asleep.

Another of Boomer's engines came and backed down onto Samson. This one was a steam locomotive, but like the diesel, it was silent, save for the eerie puffs of steam as Samson was dragged off, never to be seen again.

* * *

Diesel Ten arrived in the yard and parked himself underneath a fuel station to get his diesel supply replenished. "Hmph, this looks old. I don't know if it's safe to be under this thing. One false move, and I could be covered in oil."

"Uh, how long are you gonna be under that?"

"Oh, hi Lady. Lemme guess, you're an oil-burner?" Lady had parked in front of them.

"These days, what American steamer isn't?"

"I think Baldwin 60000 was reconverted to coal, but I've heard he's now stuck in a museum somewhere on the East Coast. Lucky dog." He looked at Lady, who was trying not to look at him. "Something the matter?"

"No, it's nothing, just...why were you pulling that railcar girl around?"

"Oh, Daisy? I needed practice for the express. She was the closest thing we had to an actual express coach."

"Oh." She paused. "Wait, the express?"

"Yep. Apparently there's some fuss about the Steam Team going to Peel Godred, and I've been asked to pull Gordon's express in the meantime." With his fuel tanks full, he disconnected and backed up to let Lady have her turn.

"I overheard," Lady giggled. "You should've seen his face." Then her expression changed. "Uh, Nick? When was the last time you got a paintjob?"

"It's been a long time," Diesel Ten said. He thought for a moment. "I don't think I've gotten it redone since I came to Sodor, and that was twenty-five years ago."

"Well, you aren't pulling the express if your livery's in that state," Lady said decisively. "Engines have to be presentable for that kind of thing."

"It's not that big a deal."

A piece of paint peeled off his windshield at that very moment and landed on his nose. He sheepishly blew it off.

"You were saying?" Lady asked, eyebrow raised. Stone disconnected the oil feed pipe from her.

"Okay, but I really don't trust the Dieselworks. You haven't seen the inside, have you? Be glad. It's incredibly grimy."

"Then I'll take you to the Steamworks at Crovan's Gate to get you repainted there," Lady offered. "I need one of my pistons realigned anyway, so I might as well." She buffered up to him. The chain on the diesel's buffer came off and landed around the hook on hers, coupling them together. "Oh, sorry, it's just–"

"If you're so strong," Diesel Ten said, a cocky smirk on his face, "then prove it and push me there."

Lady grinned. "Challenge accepted."

* * *

As they passed through the countryside, Lady effortlessly pushing him along to the awe of every other engine nearby, Diesel Ten remembered something.

 _Light. Bright light._

 _His eyes were opening for the first time._

 _He saw a woman standing in front of him. She placed a hand on his buffer. "Hello," she said. His mind made a note to speak that way forever. "I'm your creator, Millicent Mitton. I designed you and had you built."_

 _"What am I?" the young engine asked._

 _"An engine," Mitton replied. She placed a mirror in front of him. "This is what you look like."_

 _He was a solid dull green at the time. His face was devoid of wrinkles, and had a newly-born air to it. Then he noticed an unpainted thing attached to his back, and resting gently above his cab. "What is that?"_

 _"That's your hydraulic claw. The people who wanted me to build you said they wanted some extra help with clearing the lines. You are to use it only to help, never to hurt. Understand?"_

 _"I promise," the young diesel said._

 _"You are an experimental prototype for the ultimate diesel locomotive," Mitton went on. "Tougher, stronger, faster, and more fuel efficient than your predecessors. You are the first of the EMD 42 1/2 'Battleship' class."_

 _"He's impressive," a workman said. "But what are you going to name him?"_

 _"I already know," Mitton replied. Turning to the young diesel, she said, "I want the world to know of your power. Your potential._

 _"I shall name you Dominic. Nick for short."_

 _"I like it," Dominic said._

"And we're here," Lady said, stopping outside.

"Hello, my friends," Victor said, pulling up next to them. "Ah, Lady. Ready for your piston to be fixed?"

"Yep."

Victor eyed Diesel Ten warily. "He's not trying to take over the Steamworks again, is he?"

"What?"

"Long story," Diesel Ten said quickly.

"No, he's here to be repainted. Gordon's going away and Diesel Ten's taking the express during that time. I want his paintwork redone completely."

"Ah," Victor said. "I'll finally get to use up that bronze paint. Come in, please. But nothing shady."

"I promise, I feel no desire to do that," Diesel Ten assured him. "That was one time, and only to make a statement that the Dieselworks was in bad shape. Oh, and to chew out Thomas for driving me off a broken bridge."

"Huh," Lady said as she and Ten were uncoupled. "I thought nothing happened here. But it seems I've missed a lot."

"We'll fill you in on everything," Victor said. _Crash!_ "Kevin! What did you drop this time?"

"Just some steel pipes, boss!" Kevin, Victor's assistant, called from somewhere.

Victor sighed. "You two'd better get started on your renovations."

"Alright," Ten said.

But as he and Lady parted, he got a slightly forlorn look, something that the older narrow gauge engine noticed.

* * *

 **It really is high time Diesel Ten got a repaint. He looks poor.  
**

 **Will Diesel Ten get other ideas? Will other engines recognize that the "heartless monster" is falling for someone? And will we see Diesel Ten go to his old railway?  
**

 **All this and more in the next chapter – Final Preparations!  
**


	14. Final Preparations

_The next day_

Thomas puffed into the quarry. "Hey, Billy. How's work?"

"It's alright," Billy replied simply. "Can't believe I've been chosen to do your jobs while you're gone. Big honor. Am I really up to it? And who'll get the parts for the Dieselworks?"

"Den and Dart told me there's been less need for repairs recently, and you aren't going to be gone forever," Mavis put in. She was nearby and had decided to join the conversation. "And besides, you've been quite helpful here. Let Thomas show you around a bit, and you'll be fine."

"And don't worry, if you need a little help, I've been around this island a lot longer," Derek added.

Billy smiled. "Thanks, everyone."

After Thomas dropped off his trucks and left, Billy looked around. "Okay, so I heard that Thomas will have to double-head a train with someone during this trip, and if Thomas plays his cards right, he'll end up with a new girlfriend at the end of it. My vote's for Emily. Anyone else?"

"I've no problems with betting on Emily," Mavis said. "Thomas needs someone to keep him in line."

"Aye," Derek agreed. "Gently, but firmly."

"You can't be serious!" Bill interjected. "Rosie's made for him!"

"Yeah!" Ben added. "They're both fun-loving and energetic. Emily'd just be a buzzkill."

"Bo-ring!" one of the trucks, Crash, groaned. "If you want a REAL bet, whoever loses has to do something."

"Alright," Derek said. "If Bill and Ben are wrong and Thomas picks Emily, they can't play any tricks for two whole weeks."

Bill gulped, but not to be outdone said "And if WE'RE right, you have to help us in one of ours."

"Deal," Billy said. "Hey Toby, what are your thoughts?"

Toby had been passing through with Henrietta. The tram thought for a moment and said, "I don't really want a part in this, trying to decide another's love life. Besides, I don't think Thomas knows enough about love yet to choose one of the girls. In my opinion, he'd want Percy because they've worked together the most. As friends, I mean."

"I say Thomas should be with Rosie," Henrietta mentioned offhandedly. Toby's jaw dropped while the other engines snickered.

* * *

"BoCo!" Edward exclaimed as he puffed into Vicarstown.

The Class 28 chuckled. "Hello, old friend. It's been too long."

"I'll say. What happened to you? You went to the Mainland to take a freight train and you haven't been seen since!"

"A collector stole me and hid me in a shed," BoCo revealed. "It wasn't until a few days ago that I was found and fixed up. I'm just lucky he wasn't an Anti-Lifer."

"Anti-Lifer?"

"It's an organization that doesn't want there to be any live vehicles at all. They're quite delusional and have been running amok in recent years."

Edward nodded to the best of his ability. "Well, let's not dwell on that. Let's go home."

They were backing out when they heard someone ask "Excuse me? Is this the way to Sodor?"

The red engine in question was a Hughes K28, James' class, even possessing an experimental front bogie like he had. The engine looked strikingly similar, save for a pair of glasses, slightly duller and pinker paint, the white 18 on their tender, and the fact that the engine was female.

"Yes, it is...who are you?" Edward asked.

"Jamie," she replied. "Zap and I are going to compete in the Great Railway Show, but we were accidentally sent six weeks early. We were told we could help out here in the meantime."

"Yah," agreed an unfamiliar, Swiss-accented voice. "Ve vant to be as useful as we can. Although...I am not sure if I will be able to."

Jamie pulled forward to reveal a green Class Ce 6/8 II electric engine, coupled to Jamie's tender, facing backwards.

"Y'know, I'm actually going to be helping with the effort to electrify much of the island," Edward said. "Maybe you could test the wires for us."

"I vould be happy to, monsieur. Zhank you for zhe offer."

As they went off, BoCo mentioned to Zap, "I thought engines on official railways had to wear the colors. But you don't."

Zap chuckled. "Ah, yes, zhat. Jamie and I verk in a little village in Switzerland. Unfortunately, my brozhers and I looked so much alike we were constantly getting mixed up vith each other. One time it got so bad I wound up in Austria by mistake. Zhat's vhen I got ze green, so I could be kept there." He sighed. "Alzhough I've alvays vanted a real adventure..."

"Don't worry," Edward reassured him. "We've got plenty of those here. And Jamie, sorry if this seems a bit rude, but you look like one of the engines from the mainland and not a Swiss one."

"I got bought from a British junkyard for cheap," she replied curtly. "My brother James and I were the last of our kind in existence, brought to life in the 1930s after all the rest were all scrapped."

"Wait, you're James' sister? I thought you looked familiar..."

"Oh! So he's alright! That's a relief. Anyways, I got bought for the little village and started working. But given my class' tendency to fall on their faces, it was only a matter of time before I did and got hurt."

"Thus the front bogie and the glasses," Boco concluded.

"Exactly!" Zap said. "Zhey are held on by neodymium magnets under zhe smokebox, very ingenious."

Jamie smiled. "Your idea, sweetheart."

"...Sweetheart?" Edward asked.

"Oh, right. Zap and I met in the workshop and immediately connected. And, after a few decades, we married." She blushed a little.

"Won't James be surprised," Edward chuckled.

"Yes, he'll have an electric engine for an in-law," BoCo laughed.

* * *

James, meanwhile, grumbled as he pushed some trucks together. "I hate shunting. Why not have a common engine do it?"

"Dude, seriously? This again?" Rosie asked from her track. "Just be glad we don't have shunting tractors here. Ugh, those guys are so annoying."

"Shunting tractor?"

"These little trucks that can go on road and rail, and put every tank engine out of a job." She sighed. "They're even more full of themselves than you are."

"I don't remember a truck being able to go on road and rail," one of James' trucks pointed out.

"I meant the things we call trucks in America."

"You mean lorries. We had some really horrid ones a while ago," James said, recalling the visitors from many years ago. "Huh. I wonder what happened to them."

* * *

P. T. Boomer knew the answer. Three pieces of metal, with the names of the three lorries marked on them, lay in a massive vault on the boat. Boomer was looking them over, along with other trophies from the Lifers he'd killed.

"I'll be so happy to finish this...collection," he grinned evilly. He tossed in a piece of viridian blue-painted metal, with SAMSON, SUDRIAN BOX TANK written on the back, into it, then closed it up.

* * *

At one of the stations, Henry sighed sadly.

"Something the matter?" Gordon asked from the track next to him.

"It's just...I haven't been to Peel Godred in a long time. What if...they don't like the coward I've become?"

"There's nothing you can do about that. Your crash would've shaken up anyone. I doubt Lucy would mind."

"I never said anything about her!" Henry stuttered.

"You didn't have to."

"Y'know, you don't have to do this."

"I do. I am, technically, your brother, after all, so it is my responsibility to look after you."

"But I'm older...thanks anyway, though."

As they left, one of the Express Coaches, Nadia, decided to tease Gordon with "Gone soft, 'ave you?"

Gordon sighed in exasperation. Suddenly, leaving them to the potentially insane superdiesel didn't look so bad.

* * *

"Hey, Percy, can I ask you something?" Emily asked. They were at Tidmouth Harbor sorting through its imported goods.

"Sure."

"Does Thomas...like me?"

"Of course he does! I mean, sure, he's argued with me more times than I can remember, but we're still friends regardless."

"She's asking if he likes-her-likes-her, you stupid caterpillar," one of the boxcars grunted. Percy responded by shoving him out of the way. "Ahhhh!"

"Emily, you know I don't like getting involved in these things," Percy sighed.

"But aren't you and Donna a thing?" Donna, short for Doncaster, was a raspy-voiced female mail coach Percy had been dating (and by dating I mean favoring her on mail routes over her lifeless cousins) for the past five years.

"Well, yeah, but that's _my_ love life. Thomas' love life is whatever Thomas wants to make of it."

Emily groaned. "I know, it's just...he's been really nice to me...plus he's cute...and I'm not sure how I'd take it if he went out with Rosie instead."

"Well, we've still got some work to do before we have to leave," Percy said. "Once we're done with that we can think about that. Sound alright with you?"

"I guess." Emily thought of something. "Is Thomas–"

"No."

"Well, that makes me feel better, at least."

* * *

"Okay, that should do it. How do you feel?" Victor asked.

"MUCH better. I don't remember the last time Pinchy's had this much dexterity," Diesel Ten replied. He'd been fully repainted and his claw's wiring had been completely replaced with more modern, tougher cables. He raised his arm and snapped his claw, marveling at how smooth and quick it felt now.

"I'd say you were in desperate need of an overhaul given your age, but surprisingly you've held together quite well."

"Hey, I AM the ultimate diesel, after all."

Lady chuckled. She'd had both pistons adjusted and was now waiting. "Ready to head out, big guy?"

"Yeah, I am. Thanks Vic."

"No worries."

As they left, Lady cocked an eyebrow at her diesel companion. "So you took over the Steamworks back in 2011?"

"Yes, as you've probably guessed, it was a poorly-thought-out attempt at a political statement. I was NOT expecting the Dieselworks to catch fire." He sighed.

"You feel like steam engines don't consider you as an equal for your fuel source?"

"I KNOW they don't. Especially Hatt's little entourage." He growled. "They make me sick to my nonexistent stomach."

"Is that why you had Thomas held hostage?"

"Like I said earler, only so I could yell at him later. That wannabe hero puffball's the one who started the whole mess. Of engines here disliking me, I mean."

Lady nodded. "I know exactly what you're talking about. I think I'll try to arrange a meeting and make them apologize."

"You'd do that? Oh, thanks a million." Diesel Ten decided to change the subject. "Do you think the repaint looks good?"

"Yeah, of course!"

"Oh. Thanks. Not to be rude, but I don't really like yours too much. Too..."

"Girly?" Silence. "I know, I hate it too. Had to get this so everyone at Muffle Mountain would know I'm 'special'." She grimaced at the word. "I hated it there. Never got to pull regular trains unless I was the only engine available, always had to get my picture taken...I hate being famous. Wish I was green like I used to, or maybe a nice, dark red."

"You'd look quite fetching in red," Diesel Ten murmured.

Lady blushed. "W-well...you look pretty handsome in gold yourself."

The two continued on home in silence, basking in each others' company.

* * *

 **They're not in love yet, but they're getting there. E)**

 **New engines. New revelations. New paint. All in time for a big overhaul of the entire NWR.**

 **How will the Steam Team fare? Will Jamie and James reunite? Who's going to win the bet?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter – Peel Godred Engines!**


	15. Peel Godred Engines

_That night  
_

"Everyone, I am pleased to say that our final preparations before going to Peel Godred have been finished!" Sir Topham Hatt announced to the Steam Team. The engines, who included a visiting Toby, cheered. Suddenly, a workman came up to Hatt and whispered into his ear. "What?...Oh." He turned back to his engines. "Change of plans. There's one thing that needs to be done before you go."

Small, staccato puffing, punctuated by a thin, shrill whistle as Lady rolled onto the turntable.

"Is there something you'd like to say to us?" Toby asked.

"Not me," Lady replied as she was turned onto a little siding on the other side of the expanded shed. " _Him._ "

A deep, booming horn echoed through the air. A dark shape slid out of the shadows, nearing closer and closer. Under the cover of darkness, he crept in onto the turntable, the light shining ominously on his face. It was Diesel Ten, who was looking in much better shape than normal.

Silence as Ten glared at the Steam Team. "Are you wondering why I'm here?" he asked.

"Uh...yeah, you could say that..." Percy trailed off.

"Because I have unfinished business here. Especially with _him_ ," Diesel Ten replied. The turntable had been facing Thomas' berth, and Diesel Ten lifted his claw as if to point at the E2.

"What do you want from me?" Thomas asked, trying not to let the fear creep into his voice.

"What I wanted eleven years ago," the Battleship replied curtly. He rolled forward, getting very close to Thomas. The tank engine could smell the oil on his breath, and the diesel could smell the soot on his adversary's. Diesel Ten bared his fangs and spoke.

"I want an apology for dumping me into that barge."

"Is that what that's all about?" Gordon scoffed. "You could've asked for one any time."

"You stay out of this, _sausage_ ," Diesel Ten spat. Gordon bristled at the unflattering nickname he'd thought was long-forgotten. "This is more than just that. That's just for when Thomas mistreated _me_. I want an apology not just for me, but for all diesels on Sodor."

"Even the horrid ones?" James asked skeptically.

"Well, not really. I mean for the constant sidelining of dieselkind all over this island. While you get the prestige, we get the toil. While you get the big budgets, we have to fight over the scraps. THAT is what I want answers to."

"I feel I could best answer this," Edward said quietly. Diesel Ten backed up and manually rotated the turntable with his claw to face the older engine. "The Dieselworks...unfortunately, we'd always had trouble locating people trained enough to work with Lifers in general. Not just you. And the people at the Dieselworks were too afraid of being turned down if they asked for more money, so it just festered to the point of collapse. May I assume you had similar fears if you asked Sir Topham Hatt as well, and that is why you took over the Steamworks?"

"Yes," Diesel Ten confirmed, eying the man in question. "But what about the other times?"

"Remember that film crew who came here for a few years until recently?"

"Yes, they seemed to not like me."

"We needed to cover the losses from our constant accidents. A TV network was interested in having us act out little stories for children, and we were so desperate we agreed to do anything." Edward sighed. "A mistake on our part. We all had to act like human children and go on complicated, stupid adventures."

"Those were dark times," Henry remembered.

"All that rhyming..." Percy shuddered.

"They discriminated based on power source, too. Ever wonder why only Stafford is the known electric engine on Sodor, with the entire Peel Godred fleet never getting even a second of screentime? Blame them. And they made us act that way, too, especially around diesels. They never told you, evidently."

"They're gone now," Emily sighed. "But we're still recovering the broken pieces. I hope you can understand."

"Uh, duh, I'm the most intelligent engine here," Diesel Ten scoffed. "I do, I do know. Just...I was bullied a lot by steam engines back at Mesa Roja and...I wanted to be sure it never happened again. The Magic Railroad thingy was a scam, by the way; the Angry Grape can tell you more."

"...You did _not_ just call me that," Lady deadpanned.

"It's a free country," the diesel shot back. Lady rolled her eyes, but she chuckled a little to herself.

"Well, it's getting late, and I don't know if we're even–" Thomas began.

Diesel Ten cut him off with a mighty blast of his horn. Not his main horn, but a second one akin to those of other diesels made by EMD for use in long-distance travel. It was very loud, and the sudden noise made everyone jolt in surprise. Thomas looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"NOW we're even!" Ten cackled wickedly. "See you tomorrow guys! I'll keep Gordon's berth nice and toasty for him!" He reversed and left as quickly as he'd come, laughing his way down the line.

"..."

"Henry, I can't blink," Gordon said as the Steam Team slowly processed what just happened.

"Me either," his half-brother agreed.

 _What a guy_ , Lady thought. Only Toby noticed the subtle blush spreading across her face.

"Looks like Lady's found her tramp," he smirked to himself.

* * *

The next day, Diesel Ten was idling at the Dieselworks while Billy rambled.

"Oh man, I've got to take care of Thomas' branchline right or he'll never let me hear the end of it!" Billy wheeshed. "I gotta do everything right, and not rushed, and–"

"Dude, calm your buffers," Diesel Ten replied coolly. "Don't worry, just listen to the advice of others and you'll be fine."

Billy sighed. "Sorry Ten, but I just get so excited sometimes. How about you?"

"Meh, not really. I lost the ability a while ago."

Billy looked at him sadly. "Say, D10?" he asked suddenly.

"Shoot."

"So, your old railway...what was it like coming there?"

Diesel Ten looked off into the distance.

"...Unusual."

 _October 24, 1984. Nick was just fifteen days old, and he was already witnessing something his builders hoped he wouldn't until a lot later in his development: anger.  
_

 _"I'm telling you, he isn't ready yet!" Ms. Mitton exclaimed._

 _"And_ I'M _telling you I want that diesel NOW! We've waited on that order since last year!" a mysterious man bellowed._

 _"We weren't expecting him to be a Lifer! You know we have to wait longer until their personality's completely formed!"_

 _"Excuses, excuses." He turned to the diesel. "You! Where do you think you're going to be?"_

 _"On a railway," Nick replied simply. Despite being an American by birth, he'd inherited his British builder's speech pattern._

 _"WHICH?"_

 _"I don't know...Conrail?"_

 _"No. You were commissioned for MY railroad, the Mesa Roja railroad in New Mexico. I expect you to depart for there TODAY!" He left._

 _Nick looked at his builder. "Is that true?"_

 _"Yes, it is. I was hoping he'd be more patient, but he isn't," Mitton sighed. "He and his administration are a disgrace to Mesa Roja. They were a fine line when they first opened, but now they're a shadow of their past self. Nick, I implore you, remember that no matter who you are, there will be someone who loves you. And remember, your claw is never meant to harm anyone."_

 _"I will."_

 _Mitton collapsed onto his right buffer and wept. "I'll miss you, son."_

* * *

 _Two days later and Nick had arrived at Mesa Roja. He'd been repainted in the railroad's colors, a light periwinkle-blue with two curving white stripes and the line's logo. His claw was now painted a deep, regal purple to go with it.  
_

 _"I guess this is the place," he said to his driver as they approached a station. His driver didn't speak much, but Nick felt an affirmative thump on the back of the seat. Unlike most other diesel locomotives built in his generation, Nick could be manned by only one person. Granted, Lifers could move themselves, but they needed a crew to actually_ start.

 _A black USRA Heavy Mikado with blue accents on his tender puffed up next to him. "So I take it you're the new guy," he said, a slight Japanese accent to his voice. "I'm Mikado, one of the original engines."  
_

 _"Nice to meet you, Mikado. My name is–"_

 _"Diesel Ten," came another voice. A diesel locomotive with the railroad's colors had arrived. He was an old diesel, an ALCO RS-1, and his face had a worn-out look. A white D1 was painted on his side. "Come, I will show you around."_

* * *

 _At the end of the day, Diesel One and Nick were alone. "Follow me, our sheds are this way."_

 _"That's odd. Why are all our sheds so far away?"_

 _"Not all our sheds. Just the diesel ones."_

 _At this Nick's eyes narrowed. "Okay, that's it. What's the problem? Why can't we use our names? Why do we constantly get crap like this?" A sense of injustice was breeding in the young engine._

 _"You're young. Very young. But it's time you learned about the discrimination many diesel Lifers face. See, humans discovered that compared to steamers, diesels are cheaper to fix, cheaper to build, and cheaper to fuel. In the name of efficiency, many steamers were slaughtered."_

 _"And they blame us for that?"_

 _"Bingo. Many parts of the world, the remaining steam engines don't know why they're being replaced, and the diesels and electrics gain a sense of hubris. Not in the United States, though. We_ know _why we're here. We know about human greed. But even then, some of us still suffer."  
_

 _Diesel One looked at Nick. "We're out of earshot, we're safe. My actual name is Alex. I came here with Diesel Two, Nichole, and a B unit named Schenectady, Diesel Zero because he can't move by himself, to avoid scrapping. Under the original management of the railway we were accepted and respected. Then our original managers had to retire in 1968, and their replacements were...well, you're still too green to hear what they are."_

 _"I was originally green."_

 _Alex chuckled. "And I was once red, for I worked the Soo Line before my escape. Come, let's meet the others."_

 _Indeed, the other diesels had left their sheds and were looking over Nick curiously. Nick was a little uncomfortable because of this._

 _Diesel Two, Nichole, was a GE 44-ton switcher who looked about as old as Alex. Diesel Three was a male Baldwin AS-616. Diesel Four was a male EMD NW2. Diesel Five was a male EMD FP9. Diesel Six was a female ALCO Century 424 whose face had some Hispanic features. Diesel Seven was a male EMC TA who looked even older than Alex and Nichole. Diesel Eight was a female EMD FP45. And Diesel Nine was a female EMD GP9 who, unbeknownst to Diesel Ten, had originally serviced Muffle Mountain before being taken from it five months earlier._

 _Diesel Three looked at Nick, then at the other diesels. "Yeah, this kid's gonna do just fine."_

* * *

In the present, Gordon rolled his eyes at Knapford station. "What's wrong?" Emily asked. The Steam Team had gathered there with many trucks of various sorts to take to Peel Godred.

"I'm not exactly looking forward to working with engines with so much energy," Gordon grumbled. "I've met quite a few electrics back when my trains went to the mainland. And the lot of them are practically hummingbirds on wheels."

"Well, not all electric engines are like that," Edward remembered. "The EF1s certainly aren't."

"Especially Wattson. He never liked getting up early," Henry chuckled.

Sir Topham Hatt walked to the front of the station. "My friends, you have served the NWR very well over the last century, and I hope you will continue for many years more. For now, you are going to help this railway push further into the modern day. We are going to electrify Sodor and the crew of Peel Godred shall run free at last!

"Do not worry, my friends; these fine eight won't be gone long. And their relief engines I'm sure you'll find really useful indeed!"

The relief crew showed up. Timothy and BoCo smiled at each other. Billy gulped. Derek, Molly, and Murdoch nodded at each other. Lady nervously shifted her eyes; she'd been assigned to cover for Rosie. And last of all, Diesel Ten smiled broadly, his claw retracted.

"And of course, our guests from Switzerland will be helping us too!"

"James!" Jamie exclaimed.

"Jamie?" James asked. His jaw dropped when he saw his sister. "You're alive! I'm so – who's that guy?"

"Guten tag, friend!" Zap beamed. "I vas her boyfriend! Now I am husband. Good girl, _oui_?"

"...Okay, we are _so_ talking when I get back," James said finally to his sister.

"Let us wish our friends well as they go on their next adventure!" Hatt finished. The people cheered, and the eight engines left the station.

"So when does the express start?" Diesel Ten asked after a moment's silence.

"Once they get onto the branchline, because otherwise it won't be safe," Timothy explained. "We'll get a phonecall when it's time."

"Sounds good to me. Now where do they put the coaches?"

"Stafford normally handles them."

"Nah, not today. It's time I get off my bogies and boogie."

"...What?"

* * *

Since Henry and Edward knew the way, they led the expedition. The eight engines broke off the main line and followed the tracks into the mountains that surrounded the way to Sodor's Heart, the island's geographic center and the location of the village of Peel Godred. The line was devoid of trees and much plant life, akin to the patch of small desert where the Vicarstown Dieselworks was located; unlike that area, which had dried out as the result of human-caused deforestation, this place was naturally dry.

"Where're all the trees?" Percy asked.

"They can't grow in this area, _obviously_ ," Gordon replied. "We're surrounded on all sides by mountains. The clouds can't go over them, so it rarely rains here."

"But that's why Peel Godred is _here_ and not somewhere else," Henry continued. "The poles holding up the power lines could be knocked over by trees if there's a bad storm. So a place without trees is perfect for an electric line." To prove his point, it was there that the catenary lines began.

"And yet that inspector wants us to electrify the _entire_ island's railway," Gordon grumbled. "The fool. But we have no ability to protest. Our duty is only to carry out our orders."

The engines passed through a narrow tunnel bored through the tallest of the mountains. On the other side was a railyard not unlike Knapford's. Scuttling about were four black EF1s, outlined with different colors to tell them apart – mint green, medium red, grape purple, and sky blue. Barking orders was a modified black Seaton Tramway tram sitting inside a green truck.

"Beetle, you could let up for once," the truck grunted.

"But Bailey, our work at Peel Godred is never done!" the tram replied snappily. He had a militant demeanor about him. "We must stay vigilant so we can provide for all!"

"I meant because we have guests," she replied.

"Oh! Look lively, everyone! We have steamers here today, and – Henry and Edward, old beans! I thought you'd forgotten us!" The EF1s quickly halted what they were doing and hurried over.

"We'd never forget you!" Edward chuckled. "Hello again, Faraday!"

The green EF1 smiled. "Hello again, Edward. Are these the friends you've spoken so fondly about?"

"Indeed they are!"

"I think I can tell who Thomas is," the red one muttered. "He's got that bit of a hero syndrome. I can feel it." Thomas looked confused at this.

"I thought you were going to tell us who James is because you both have that arrogant swagger," the purple one, the only female among the EF1s, mused slyly.

"Jouleia, I assure you, there is nothing wrong with my facial recognition abilities, THANK YOU VERY MUCH."

"Are they always like this?" Percy asked the blue one.

"Yeah, even after as many times as they've made up." The blue one was obviously very shy.

"Well, allow me to introduce ourselves," the green one, Faraday, said. "I am Faraday, the first of the locomotives. My siblings are Wattson in red, Jouleia in purple, and Heisenberg in blue." This was also the order of their numbering. "Beetle speaks for himself."

"Tally ho!"

"Yes, thank you, Beetle."

"Isn't he the engine who worked for the Ministry of Defense during the second World War?" Gordon asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Indeed he is," Jouleia confirmed. "Used to ferry military personnel and did a little shunting too. 'Course, after the war his line closed, and we bought him to keep the trucks in line. He's narrow-gauge, so he can't actually move here."

"Pardon me asking, but...there seems to be a lot more work than you four alone can handle," Emily said.

"You're right about that," Wattson grumbled. "We're old. Faraday turned a hundred a few years back, and me and Jouleia's centenary is next year. We can't do as much anymore. So that's why we have help."

A horn blasted its way as two new engines came. They were Class 303 multiple units, Caledonian blue and with yellow faces on the front car, the only such car to be alive of their formations. They were obviously twins, but unlike most of the twin engines on Sodor of the same sex, they were fraternal: the one numbered 6 had a thicker chin and nose than the one numbered 7.

"Thunder and Lightning, our passenger engines. Thunder is #6, Lightning is #7," Faraday said.

"G'd aft'rnoon," Thunder rasped, his voice loud and deep.

"Greetings." Lightning's voice was softer and colder.

"And of course, we got too old for freight eventually, too. So we had two 86's come over to round it out." A blue Class 86 nervously rolled in. His face was also yellow. He was numbered 9. "Nikola, where's your sister?"

"I don't know where Lucy is," he replied. "But she's got to be coming here soon. Oh, never mind, here she is."

The line rumbled. A high-pitched honk punctuated the air as an older, orange-painted Class 86 bounded over. There was only one word coming from her thick lips:

"HENRY!"

* * *

 **MOAR ENGINE DIVERSITY!  
**

 **Will Lucy and Henry's relationship be explored? Why did the GP9 end up at Mesa Roja? And will Gordon ever not be stuck up?**

 ** **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Sugar, Sugar!  
****


	16. Sugar, Sugar

The engines braced themselves. Lucy pulled down her pantograph so the only thing powering her forward motion was her momentum. Eventually, though, she ran out of that, and gently biffed into Henry's front buffers. "Oh, Henry, it's been way too long! I haven't seen you in forever! Like the new shape, by the way."

Henry's face had completely flushed scarlet. "U-uh...thanks. I...got it after an accident."

"I heard!" Lucy grimaced. "Poor thing. C'mon, we've got a _lot_ of catching up to do." She raised her pantograph and reversed, Henry nervously following.

"...I never thought I'd see the day where _Henry_ of all engines has a _girlfriend_ ," James said finally.

"Good for him, then. Every engine deserves someone special," Thomas replied, smiling broadly.

"He knows that but is _still_ completely clueless to our advances on him?" Emily muttered to Rosie.

Faraday chuckled. "Yes, Lucy's always had a soft spot for your No. 3. But I think a reunion isn't why you're here, is it?"

"Indeed it isn't!" A middle-aged woman approached the engines. She was tall and lanky and had wild black hair. "I'm Esther Mayberry, the Frizzed Controller. Hatt's been told by an inspector to electrify the NWR, and we're going to help them."

"'lectr'fy the NWR, eh? 've always wanted to see beyond the m'ntain," Thunder pondered. "B't it's a bit strange 'n 'nspect'r wants that, innit?"

"Indeed, my brother. There may be sinister reasons behind it that we do not know of," Lightning agreed, not knowing he'd hit the nail right on the head. "Still, an order is an order. Come, let us take you to the place where we get our wires."

* * *

That afternoon, Oliver whistled as he pulled into Knapford Yard. "Hello, everyone! I'm here for my train!"

"Comin' right up, jailbird!" 'Arry, who was working in the yard that day, chuckled as he backed up to fetch the line of boxcars Oliver was meant to take.

"MUST you remind me of that horrid time of my life?" Oliver grumbled.

"Hey, you escaped the worst scrapyard in England, that takes a lotta guts and I respect an engine who can pull that off," 'Arry replied casually.

"Well, Douglas helped."

"You and Bert aren't half-bad," Lady commented as she took away a stone train. "Thanks BoCo!" she called to the train's source.

"You're welcome!" he replied as he departed.

'Arry laughed. "Well, we were worse, but nothing a little psychiatrist couldn't fix."

"PSYCHIATRIST?!" Diesel Ten, who was refueling under the rickety derrick, exclaimed. "Why didn't _I_ get one of those?!"

"What were Splodge for?" 'Arry grunted as he shoved the train into Oliver.

"Ow! Careful, 'Arry, those cars are full of powdered sugar. And we really don't want to have to clean that up," Oliver said.

Diesel Ten stiffened. "You okay, big diesel?" Philip asked as he passed.

"Yeah, just...suddenly remembered I had a thing to do elsewhere...something involving ironing a dog or something." He quickly fled.

"Ha!" Charlie chuckled. "He's afraid of a little sugar!"

"Hey, be nice! He got really badly hurt by sugar a long time ago!" Lady snapped.

"Oh, what's the big deal? He can recover!"

"He was young when it happened. That kind of stuff stays with you for the rest of your life, you violet _vagrant_." She rolled her eyes and left to attend to another train, mumbling angry gibberish under her breath while Stone tried to calm her down.

"She _is_ right, you know," Oliver said as he left the yard.

"Ohhh, why does everyone have to take _her_ side?" Charlie growled to himself. Then he spotted the rickety old derrick, how it was precariously clutching the edge of collapse. A naughty idea flew into his funnel. "Maybe it'll take a joke to get them to see straight..."

* * *

"Isn't it weird how we've never seen this part of the line, even though we've been up to Whiff's dump a lot of times?" Percy asked that night. The Steam Team had gathered outside the Peel Godred roundhouse. Beetle had been brought over too in Bailey, and they were in their own special shed.

"This is the other side. The Peel Godred Branchline is actually a narrow, giant loop. You're familiar with the non-electrified side, which goes through the valley to the south end of Peel Godred. This is the electrified side, which has more access to the north end of Peel Godred, the other inner towns, and the old Mid-Sodor railway," Jouleia explained.

"Pity it had to close, I rather liked Atlas," Faraday mused.

"Should we take him along once we all leave?" Gordon asked, pointing his eyes at Beetle.

"Depends, soldier. Do you know of any narrow-gauge lines with an electric third rail?"

"Not particularly. I take it that's how you get your power?"

"Indeed it is!"

"Beetle does a good job of keeping my brothers and sisters in line, so I think no," Bailey explained.

"It was worth a shot. He'd fit in well at Knapford."

* * *

At Tidmouth, Toby was visiting the relief engines. "I take it everyone's first day went well?"

"Yeah, I forgot how much I liked doing the local passenger service," Molly agreed.

"James would be proud," Jamie smirked. "Though I do hope you stick around. James needs people to keep him in line and remind him that where he is now is actually pretty good."

"Well, I usually work at Tidmouth Harbor, but I can ask the dock manager if I can help out here every now and then."

Diesel Ten entered Gordon's berth and parked; he was the last engine there. "Okay, chumps, who's telling tonight's story?"

"Ooh! I have zhe best one about zhe Sveedish pickles!"

"Zap, they're not ready for the pickle incident yet."

"But Jamie, this is Sodor! Shtupidity happens on zhe hour here! I zhink zhey could handle zhat at least."

" _Please_ don't remind me about the twins at this time of night," BoCo groaned.

"Hey, why doesn't Diesel Ten tell us a story?!" Everyone looked at Billy. "He's full of them!"

"And I _am_ curious about the reason behind your saccharophobia," Derek added.

Diesel Ten sighed. "You really want to hear that?"

Everyone looked at him eagerly.

Ten sighed. "Alright, but no laughing."

* * *

 _"It was April 7, 1985. Easter Sunday. And some of the engines got a special treat."  
_

"Hello, what do we have here?" a gray ATSF 3460 named Angela asked. A group of steam engines were at Lordsburg Station on the Mesa Roja line, which connected it to the now-former Southern Pacific Railroad, and they'd been approached by a bunch of children.

"We have sugar for you to burn instead of coal!" the Sunday school teacher said. The children handed a sack of powdered sugar to her crew, then went on to the other engines.

Chuck, a green PRR J1, shuddered happily as the sugar burned. "Ahhhh, that's the stuff!"

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" a blue CNR U4a named Vinnie (one of Nick's more regular tormentors) agreed.

In the background, three diesels and two electrics watched, having finished with their work.

"Man, this is one of those days where I wish I could actually eat stuff," Zach groaned.

"I hear you," Doris, a Great Northern W1, agreed.

"Not us," Diesel Three, real name Quentin, grunted.

"Why not?" Nick asked.

"Because our engines are meant for liquid fuel. Small particles like grains of sugar clog them and keep us from moving. Margarita, you got caught in a sandstorm once, you know all about that."

" _Si, me duele toda la cuerpo_ ," Diesel Six, real name Margarita, agreed gravely. Nick counted himself lucky that all engines could understand any language.

"Yeah, we need to stay away from that stuff."

"Oh."

Quentin shrugged. "Anyway, we gotta go get ready for our next train. Catch you later, Ten." He, Margarita, and the electrics left.

Nick began to reverse, when he heard a voice. "Excuse me? Diesel?"

"What is it?" Nick sighed, stopping as a potential passenger approached him.

"I saw you missing out on the sugar. Would you like some?"

"No thanks, I've heard it's bad for me...sir, what are you – sir, please step away from my fuel tanks, you're not certified–"

And then the worst pain Nick had ever felt ripped through his body, like fire and lightning wrapped up into one. He shrieked, and then began to cry.

"Yeah!" the man sneered. "You diesels think you're so high and mighty, don't you? Well, here's what's comin' for ya!"

* * *

"I've had a fear of the stuff ever since," Diesel Ten sighed.

"That's awful! They can't treat engines like that! That's inhutrain!" Timothy spluttered.

"Management didn't care," Diesel Ten replied.

"It's still not right," Lady said. "No engine deserves that treatment. Especially an innocent one like you."

Diesel Ten smiled sadly at this.

* * *

An hour later, the rest of the engines were asleep, and Diesel Ten looked at the night sky. He found the constellation of Hercules, and recounted the rest of the incident, which he hadn't disclosed.

 _A horn blared. Tears still trickling down, Nick saw Diesel Nine, real name Cressida, at the platform. She was dropping off some gondolas and had seen everything. "Sir, stop that! You're hurting him!"_

 _"Or what? Diesels will never be as good as steam engines," the man scoffed._

 _That did it. The man felt a buffer (which by the '80s all engines had, as Lifers were found to have less accidents if they had them) tap his back, and when he turned around, he jumped. Cressida had snuck up on him. "I'm not going to repeat myself. This is a breach of privacy and it is discrimination based on power source. We didn't ask to be made, but you have to accept that we were. Now, LEAVE HIM ALONE! And if I see you doing that to us ever again, I will PERSONALLY run you down! You may think you're special because you're human, but I'm an almost 130-ton machine that can outrun you by a factor of two. The only thing stopping me is my lack of full autonomy and my conscience. Understood?"_

 _The man gulped and ran away. Cressida sighed and turned to Nick. "Sorry about that. You okay?"_

 _Nick sniffled. "N-no..."_

 _"Thought so. Don't worry, I'll get you cleaned up."_

In the present, Diesel Ten sighed wistfully. "Oh, Cressida..."

* * *

 **So yes, she does have a name. Fun fact: in the first draft it was going to be revealed later on.  
**

 **More of Diesel Ten's past has been revealed. What will happen when the Steam Team returns? What's P. T. Boomer doing? And what other stupid puns will I come up with?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Building a New World!  
**


	17. Building a New World

**(AN: I made this story many moons ago, I'm just now putting it up. The following review of reviews is an addition to the original document).**

 **With another five chapters up, let's get to reviews!**

 **boss train, on the slur: Yep, invented in the late 1960s by British diesels too conceited about their supposed benefits over steamers.  
**

 **Guest, on...what the heck is that mess of shoddy writing?  
**

 **Guest, on the shenanigans: I never liked Samson, and this is when Lady starts falling for the big guy for real.**

 **Guest, on the OT3: It is.**

 **Guest, on the personality of Lady: Thanks! She's normally somewhat shy, but when push comes to shove she's quite outspoken.  
**

 **Guest, on shipping: Vinnie and Kim for sure.**

 **Bloopydoo, on schedule slipping: Yeah, sorry about that, started a Total Drama fanfic and got sidetracked, then the original copy of this fic got deleted so I've had to reconstruct it from the ground up.  
**

 **JwwProd: She sure is!**

 **And before we resume, please check out my profile, because I've recently rewritten one of the most divisive episodes of Season 22!  
**

* * *

"C'mon...c'mon...what's taking so long?" Billy muttered. He was at one of the stations on Thomas' line. "It normally doesn't take this long to load up!"

"We normally don't get passengers on wheelchairs, either," Annie replied.

"Oh, I see."

"You're an impatient sort, aren't you?"

"Can you blame me? When Charlie and I were young, we had to shunt trucks and coaches for the big engines. And Charlie was always gallavanting off telling them jokes, making _me_ do all _his_ work!" The guard whistled, and Billy continued griping as he went. "He got all the credit, too! And the big engines were always, 'Do this, Billy!' 'I need this favor, Billy!'" He sighed. "It gets to you after a while!"

"Good thing Murdoch brought you back down to Earth," Clarabel said. "You've been a fine engine, Billy. Even if your wheels are small."

"Ha, yeah, why'd they make _me_ the coach puller?"

"You have quite the interest in Diesel Ten," Annie said, changing the subject. "Why is that?"

"Well, when I first came to the Golden, I heard the stories about him. And they interested me. The stories the engines told were different from the ones the people did. Guess a machine's-eye-view's a bit more reliable in that case. Meeting him in the metal, he matches up more to our version. But...there's more to it than that. He couldn't have always been cynical. Something had to make him that way, and I wanna find out _what_. So I can get some closure, and more importantly, get a good understanding of him."

"A noble thing you're doing," Clarabel said.

"Mm-hm. I think that no one has ever gotten the full story about him, except Sir Topham Hatt and Nick himself. And I think that if we're going to be as useful as we can, we've gotta understand each other so we can work together effectively."

"Well, the Steam Team's coming back from Peel Godred today, so perhaps they might be able to hear it themselves."

* * *

Back at Peel Godred, the Steam Team had all the trucks they were taken filled up with logs, electrical wires, transformers, and other fancy things the author doesn't understand. "Thomas, that train of transformers is yours," Mrs. Mayberry said. "It's a bit heavy, so you're going to need someone to double-head it with." Emily and Rosie glared at each other.

"Well, we electrics aren't gonna be much use until these things get set up," Wattson snarked.

"And we aren't either, we're triple-heading the posts," Gordon said as he backed down onto James, who was coupled to the front of the log train. Henry in turn backed down on him.

"So that leaves Edward, Percy, Emily, and Rosie," Thomas pondered. "Hm...how to make this fair...oh, I know!" Then, darting his eyes to each of the four in succession, he sang:

"Eeny – meeny – miny – mo, catch a – steam tram – by the – spoke. If they – whistle, let them – go. Eeny – meeny – miny – Rose!"

"Why thank you Thomas, I'm so flattered you'd pick lil' old me!" Rosie gushed as she chuffed to his position. Edward rolled his eyes and chuckled while Emily fumed.

"It's no biggie. And old? We were both brought to life in the sixties! And my base is a good twenty years older than yours."

"Then why are you so short lengthwise?" Heisenberg asked. "I've seen an E2 before, and they were a good meter and a half longer!"

Thomas sighed as Rosie backed down on him and both were coupled together, and Thomas to the train. "Blokes who rebuilt me after making me a Lifer botched the job. Now I'm short and stumpy."

"Okay, that's a wrap, people!" Mrs. Mayberry called. The steamers left as soon as their guards whistled.

"Feel free to visit any time!" Nikola called.

"We'll see you sometime soon!" Jouleia added.

"Five pounds says the burgundy one gets the guy," Lightning said to Thunder.

"Y' got a deal, five pounds s'z it's th' green lass," Thunder replied.

"And I want a scarf!" Lucy finished.

"...Lucy, a scarf would catch fire as soon as it came in contact with your pantograph."

"Around my rear cab's steering wheel, duh! It's not like I have a face on it or anything." She smiled. "That Percy guy is so insightful! And unlucky. Reeeeeeeally unlucky."

"But wh't a'b't th' bet?" Thunder said.

"Both! Polyamory's totally a thing now, and the best part? Locomotives aren't bound to the same dumb relationship rules humans are!" She grinned. "Like age restrictions! Henry's almost twice my age now!" She sighed wistfully, her yellow cheeks flushing as orange as her livery. "And yet I love him."

* * *

"So, how was Lucy?" Gordon asked wryly.

"She was happy to see me again, what more do you want?" Henry asked nervously.

"Hey, nothing like a little playful teasing between brothers."

"And I suppose I could do the same about Caitlin, then? Or that German tender engine at the 2016 Railway Show that Thomas thought was you? Frieda, was it?" Gordon groaned and the flatbeds laughed.

James sighed. "At least you guys got a chance. Sure, I've been a tendersmokebox lately, but I've tried to change!"

"Unfortunately you've taken too many blows to the face for it to stick," Gordon replied dryly.

"I know!" James agreed. "I wish I got that fancy Swiss surgery my sister's probably had, that'd fix me up forever for sure. Why's she here, anyway?"

* * *

"The 2022 Railway Show?" Sir Topham Hatt asked the engine in question.

"Yep! Zap and I are participating in the new Teamwork competition!" Jamie replied. "After what happened during the last one when that Canadian jerk tried to attack the PRR A6, the officials who run it established it. Two engines of differing power sources and sexes must complete an obstacle course in the fastest time and with the biggest load they can manage!"

"Ah! Quite clever! I shall have to think about that now," Hatt replied. "But why are you _here_?"

"Our heritage line got the wrong date and it can't afford to take us back. So here we are."

"I see. Well, you have been a really useful engine, Jamie. And your insights into your brother's desires to stand out may allow us to finally get some sense into him."

"He wouldn't be my brother if he wasn't," Jamie smiled as she left, the four red coaches, Abby, Bryony, Catriona, and Diana, clattering behind her.

"Yeah," Abby grumbled. "Regrettably."

* * *

A few hours later at Vicarstown, Diesel Ten was picking up the passengers for his final express. "Alright ladies, batten down the hatches, this is the last time in the foreseeable future that I'm doing this!"

"We're coming along, we're coming along, don't worry!" Wendy, the brake coach, said. The train began to move.

"Hm...I'm a little tired of the same trickety-trock songs, aren't you?" Valentina, the coach in front of her, asked.

"Indeed I am, dear sister," Tabitha agreed. "Nick, would _you_ happen to know of any decent music?"

"I don't sing much, but I've always liked the 1994 cover of the Cotton-Eyed Joe."

"Then sing that!" Diesel Ten's driver inserted the requisite CD, and the diesel began to sing.

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

"I like this song!" Marli realized.

"So do I!" one of her passengers agreed. Encouraged, Diesel Ten picked up speed and continued singing.

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

"Is Diesel Ten... _singing_?!" Edward wheeshed as the express passed Peel Godred.

"And on key, no less!" Gordon added, flabbergasted. Diesel Ten paid them no heed.

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

* * *

The scene switched to Knapford Yard, with Lady shunting, singing to herself.

 _I've brought disasters wherever I went,_

 _At one time, I was the one that I most resent-ed._

 _But that all went away, once I got to know,_

 _The ultimate EMD machine painted in gold._

 _Ooh!_

* * *

Elsewhere, Diesel Ten resumed his song.

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

During the banjo solo Diesel Ten remembered his past.

 _August 19, 1986. Nick was clearing the line of debris from a recent storm. Assisting him was Luis, Diesel Five, attached to Schenectady, the ALCO PB booster unit Alex and Nichole had rescued, and a train of gondolas._

 _As they were cleaning, they saw Sanders, a Milwaukee Road Class A, pass with an express. Something Nick would never pull despite being based on a passenger locomotive, the bully getting the good jobs every time._

 _Diesel Ten momentarily snarled, his claw clenching as the sense of injustice within him grew ever more._

* * *

Back in the yard, Lady was about done with her shunting. As she left, she continued to sing.

 _I remember the days when I was young and naive,_

 _Before I was exposed to what I couldn't believe._

 _Before I tried to run away, so that nobody would know,_

 _The burden on my boiler that's made my heart slow._

And then Lady remembered her own past during the next solo.

 _September 5, 1983. Labor Day. Lady's first birthday would be in a week. Not that anyone would care. Because she was a special services locomotive, she hadn't been allowed to work that day. Unlike the actually productive engines.  
_

 _Lady groaned as she watched the other engines at the nearby Butler station bustle with their work. Bella, the ex-PRR E2, and Sharknose, the ex-PRR DR 4-4-15 Sharknose version, chatting as their passengers changed trains. Albert, the ex-CNR GMD-GMD1, and Conover, the ex-PRR E44, hauling in their freight trains. And...Miley throwing yet another tantrum about not getting her own elite coaches, frightening Otis, the ex-PRR O1, yet again. Typical.  
_

 _Suddenly, a shadow appeared over the tank engine. It was Mitch, an ex-B &O EMC EA. He was stoic and imposing. He'd been sent by the B&O to capture Caitlin after she'd escaped her scrapping, but he didn't really care that she was still alive. After Muffle Mountain's original management had treated him far better than the B&O, he switched loyalties completely._

 _He smirked at Lady. Lady looked behind him and saw his freight train. "I could use some help," he said. Lady's eyes lit up at this._

 _A little while later, Lady was in front of him, pulling. Mitch slightly decreased his speed so Lady would build up her strength. Cressida, an EMD GP9 who'd lived at Muffle Mountain all her life, passed on her way from a washdown. She smiled at Lady. Lady'd never felt so giddy in her wheels in her entire life._

In the present, Lady sighed.

She missed Cressida.

* * *

Diesel Ten continued to sing.

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

"You're a natural, Diesel Ten!" Billy gasped.

"A natural what?" Paxton asked. "A natural diesel?"

Diesel Ten laughed. "An _artist_ , Paxton my friend. One of the world's best!" He continued to loop through the bends, feeling the wind on his face. He slowed down, protracted his claw, then stopped.

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

He dropped off his coaches and finished his song as he left.

 _If it hadn't been for cotton-eyed Joe,_

 _I'd have remarried a long time ago._

 _Where did you come from? Where did you go?_

 _Where did you come from, cotton-eyed Joe?_

"...Why is it just now that I notice he's been saying _re_ married?" Nadia asked, confused.

"Beats me," Carly said, the lead coach shrugging as best as she could. "Maybe he wanted it to be a little happier?"

"Or more personal," Wendy said quietly.

* * *

A few days later, a set of power lines had been erected for 200 feet of track. "Okay Zap, how do you like it?" the workman asked.

Zap raised his pantograph and finally rolled on his on power. "Finally! I am FREE! For sixty-vun meters at least." He zipped forwards, then backwards. "Zhis is amazing! Such craftmanship! You'd zhink it vas imported from home!"

"So I guess we're doing it right," the workman said. "Huh. Welp, now we gotta make a lot more of these."

"Zhere vill be MORE?! I'm zho happy I could sing!"

"Save it, Zap, we've already had one musical number this week," Murdoch grumbled.

"Vhy _are_ you so sensitive to sounds anyvay?"

"My smoke deflectors. I've got almost no peripheral vision. So my hearing's extremely powerful to compensate."

"I see. Did not know. Vill keep noise down in future."

"Thanks."

As Zap was shunted away by Stanley, Billy approached. "Oh, hey Billy. What's shaking?"

"Murdoch, why did you choose me to go to the Golden?"

"Well, I thought you were an engine who deserved something special and had something to learn about himself. So I gave you that chance."

"Oh. Thanks." Silence. "Sucks they stopped letting us sleep after 2013, though."

"Yes, it does. You have no idea what it's like with my hearing."

"Yeah, I guess."

"You know, it's funny."

"What is?"

"Diesel Ten has a reputation for everyone being afraid of his claw, right? Well, there were sixteen other engines in the 2000 competition, and I only heard _fifteen_ distinct gasps of terror!"

"No way!"

"Yes way. I don't know _who_ , because the camera wasn't facing that way, but someone wasn't afraid of him. But who could it be?"

Billy noticed Charlie caught up in his jokes. "What's black and white and red all over?"

"A sunburnt penguin?" Stafford groaned.

"Nope! Guess ag-AUGH!" Charlie collided with a lifeless fish van. The van's front fell down, splattering him with fish. A yellowfin tuna got lodged mouthfirst around his whistle, and Charlie vainly tried to whistle the fish off.

"That sound is just awful!" Stafford grimaced.

"Hey, you know you can't tuna fish," Lady mentioned as she passed. Stafford realized this and burst out laughing while Charlie groaned.

"I think I know who that engine _might_ be," Billy mused. "The only engine who's never shown fear when she's in a good mood."

* * *

"Fear," Boomer said to the Anti-Lifers, "is a very effective tool for gaining power over others. But if _you_ show fear yourself, you are not effective. Observe." He walked over to the live Class 323 EMU.

She whimpered. "P-please, let me go!"

"Not a chance, punk!" Boomer sliced out a square of metal from her side. "You Lifers are unholy abominations only worthy of scrap metal." He plunged the flame of his blowtorch into her face and sliced it in half, killing her, her face instantly dissipating into a flash of yellow sparkles. A man caught the sparkles. "Put the nanobots with the rest of our munitions."

Suddenly, the phone rang. "Hello?" He smiled. "Two weeks, you say? Why Mr. Hatt, thank you!" He hung up. "Two weeks, ladies and germs. Then we can get scrappin'! See, I'm not afraid. Because I know that we will triumph!"

His horde of maniacs cheered.

* * *

 **Boomer's a looming, and we had a music number because hey, every good special has at least two.**

 **More of the past has been revealed. Billy's looking to dig up some more secrets. And P. T. Boomer's plan may actually work.**

 **What tales of Peel Godred will be told? What tales of tragedy will be told? Will the author get off his tail and write the next chapter?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Stand Up!  
**


	18. Stand Up

"Alright, who's got the wonky horn?" Billy asked that evening with a new shipment of parts.

"I do, matey!" Salty said. He tried to honk, only for a pathetic grating sound to come out.

"And...what're the ones in the green truck?"

"Oh, those would be my spares," Derek said. "I get the custom stuff, y'know."

"Your new heating system truly _is_ a wonder," Den said.

"What 'e means is, it's a miraculous contraption," Dart clarified.

"Yeah, those people at EMD really know what they're doing."

"Yet they made _me_ and all of my mental health issues," Diesel Ten muttered.

"Hey, those issues are learned, not built in."

"Not all of them..."

Derek cautiously decided to change the subject. "So...I heard you staged a failed protest by taking over the Steamworks?"

Diesel Ten groaned. "Turner and Hamilton, can't anyone let me forget about that? But yes, that was I."

"How did I get out of the fire?" Sidney asked.

"I took you down and stuck you at Vicarstown to watch the birds while I did my plotting," was the explanation given by the Battleship.

"Ah yes, the birds. Do they always fly south?"

"He's not a sharp one, is he?" Derek asked Diesel Ten.

"Give him a break, his engine was dropped before he was brought to life," Diesel Ten replied snappily.

"What gave you the idea to do something like that?" Billy asked. "The takeover, I mean."

"Well, it wasn't my first time..."

* * *

 _January 13, 1986. A new year, but the same old treatment that Nick was rapidly getting sick of._

 _"Diesel Eight, Diesel Two, there's a shipment of paint coming in tomorrow night, and I need you to take it in," the railway's manager, Mr. Slim Lawson, who was most decidedly NOT slim, said._

 _"Paint? But we've got enough paint to last until the Mayan apocalypse!" Nichole exclaimed. "Not that that's going to happen or anything, but we've got a_ lot _of paint."_

 _"This paint is for the steamers,_ obviously _." Lawson left, shaking his head._

 _Diesel Eight, real name Rena, scowled. "It sucks that we can't have our own colors!"_

 _"Most engines don't have good artistic taste. You wanna see a bunch of engines who look like mobile bananas? Or other things I'm not allowed to repeat?" Diesel Four, real name Enrique, asked. "Those Union Pacific guys, man, they don't look dignified!"_

 _"My point still stands! We're being mistreated and no one's doing anything!"_

 _"Yes, especially because before the days of Lawson's administration,_ everyone _had the colors, steam, electric, and diesel alike," Alex said.  
_

 _Nick was thinking during the entire clamor, and spoke up. "What if they_ couldn't _wear their own colors?"  
_

 _Everyone stopped talking. "What do you mean, dude?" Rena asked._

 _"The steamers used to be painted like us. And I remember Caroline complaining about having to choose her own livery once the change happened. So what if we changed it_ back? _Look, let me accompany Rena and Nichole to the shipment, and we can hide it! And, and we won't give it up until we're all painted the same way! People will notice, people will fuss – but they'll be doing it for US for once!"  
_

 _"I don't know...I think I'm too old for these shenanigans," Diesel Seven, real name Juan, said._

 _"And we could get hurt for this!" Schenectady yelled from his track._ _Nick sighed; they were right._

 _"I say do it."_

 _Everyone looked at Cressida. "He's right. No one will listen to our plight unless we do something big. We've been wallowing in our sadness for far too long. Let's go out and do something!"_

 _"...What were they putting in your fuel back in Pennsylvania?" Quentin wanted to know._

 _"Nothing but pure passion, my friend." She smiled at Nick, who blushed. "We wake at dusk."_

* * *

 _"Hey, I'm due for a repaint, but where's the gray?" Angela asked two days later._

 _"I don't know...no one knows!" the maintenance guy panicked._

* * *

 _"You can't do this! Tell us where the paint is!" Lawson growled, his cronies behind him._

 _"Not until we ALL get painted the Mesa Roja colors, steamers included," Diesel Ten growled back._

 _"Hey, he's right, this red looks awful on me," Tim, the Timken Four Aces, mused. "I'd love to be blue for a change."_

* * *

 _It worked._

 _It actually worked._

 _Now everyone looked equally uniform._

 _Diesel Ten blasted his secondary horn. "I did it!" he whooped. "No_ _– WE did it! Come here, everyone!"_

 _All the other diesels honked in joy. But Cressida honked the loudest of all._

* * *

Back in the present, Gordon groaned as he returned to Tidmouth sheds. "You okay?" Henry asked.

"Not really," Gordon winced. "I'm not as young as I used to be, Henry. Did you know I'm turning a hundred this Wednesday?"

"A hundred? I remember my centennial," Henry reminisced. "Fun times."

"Gordon, you're lucky to have lived this long," Edward said, "and still be in service. Everyone here is."

"I know, I am immeasurably grateful, it's just...I don't think I can keep running three expresses every day anymore. I wish we had someone who could pull it for one of those times so I could rest my ancient gears." Gordon moaned in pain as he came to a stop.

"I thought you got your gears replaced last November," Thomas mused.

"You know what I mean!"

Percy laughed. "I'll be sorry to miss this mess," he said, "but I gotta do the mail. I'll be back, don't worry, and don't spare any details."

"You got it!" Rosie grinned, looking at Gordon deviously.

"If engines have past lives," Gordon groaned, "whatever did I do in it to deserve _this_ lot?"

* * *

Percy arrived in Knapford Yard and was surprised to see Lady still up. "Lady? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Normally, yes. But Hatt wants me to do the mail with you so I can learn the line," Lady replied. "Since everyone else is asleep, I don't have to worry about getting dirty looks from everyone else."

"That's not gonna happen, kid," came a raspy voice.

"Who was that?" Lady asked.

"That would be Donna," Percy said, smiling as he puffed over and coupled to his loved one. He pulled forward, revealing the NWR's sole Lifer mail coach.

"Oh! You're a girl...you know, at Muffle Mountain I knew a PRR T1 who transitioned, but–"

"I'm nothing of the sort," Donna explained. "I just got caught in a fire is all. Damaged whatever I use to speak _permanently_."

"Ooh," Lady winced. "Rough. So how are we gonna do this?"

"Normally, you'd be behind me and I'd pull, but you're shorter than me, so you're going in front," Percy explained.

"Okay. Super."

* * *

As they traversed the line, Percy said, "Don't worry, here we discourage the kind of bullying you got back home."

"I know, it's just...old habits are hard to break. Especially if you're me. I mean, I'm a clone of a failed experiment, modified with 60000's pistons, built as the final product of the dying Baldwin Locomotive Works. In a land of mass-produced engines with classes numbering in the thousands." She sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

"But we do!" Percy protested. "Take me! I'm an Avonside Trojan crossed with a GWR 1361, built 1944 and brought to life twenty years later! And Henry, too! He's not an original Black Five, you know."

"He's not Five's brother?"

"Who's Five?"

"She works at the Golden."

"Oh. Well, Henry actually started life as a Gresley A0, a stolen copy of one of Gordon's rough drafts, mixed with an LNER C1. He got rebuilt into a Black Five after a horrible accident that almost cracked his smokebox [which for steamers is a death sentence], which is also why he was afraid of everything for a few years."

"I know that feeling. Ever since my first day at Muffle Mountain I've had a horrible phobia of being covered in slime. Even soap triggered it for a while."

"And there are other misfits too," Donna added. "Like me. Most live mail coaches are, well, males. My full name's Doncaster because my builders thought I would be too until I came to life. And many of the engines weren't brought to life until after steam had died, like Thomas and Emily."

They talked through the night, during which Lady remembered.

* * *

 _April 9, 1984._

 _"Lady, I have some...bad news," Burnett Stone said as he approached his engine in the switching yard. "Our financiers did some dumb stuff and bought more than they could afford. Because of them, one of the engines is being sent away because we can't afford to keep as many anymore."_

 _Lady processed this. "Who is it?"_

 _"Cressida. They sold her to a heritage railway in New Mexico."_

 _Lady gasped. "Why Cressida? She's a hard-working, kind engine!"_

 _"You WOULD sympathize with her," Kim growled as she passed with a prominent freight train. "You oil-burners are practically half-diesels yourselves. Ugh, it's miscegenation, I tell you."_

 _Tears ran down Lady's face. "When did she leave?"_

 _"Two hours ago. I just found out now."_

 _"And they didn't tell me?..."_

 _"No. I'm sorry." Lady sniffled, then bawled._

* * *

 _As the years passed, without Cressida around, the spark from the young tank engine's life faded, and she grew quiet, distant, and aloof. One night in 1991, Mitch and Fay, the USRA Light Santa Fe, looked out into the yard as Lady dutifully arranged the passenger trains. Unbeknownst to them, she heard everything._

 _"She's never been the same since Cressida left, has she?" Fay asked._

 _"No," Mitch sighed. "My brother Juan lives at Mesa Roja. From my last contact with him in '88, the railway's gone to the dogs. Diesels aren't even allowed to use their names."_

 _Fay shivered. "That bad? Oh, I do hope Cressida is alright."_

 _"From what I've heard, she's become quite close with the diesel purchased after her. He's an experimental British Railways Class 42 replica with a more powerful engine and a roof-mounted claw. His real name is Dominic, but the railway calls him Diesel Ten. He's very young, in fact_ _Lady's only two years older than him. And from what I've heard, he's a lot like her, too. Perhaps we should organize a get-together between the two railways so they can meet." Mitch sighed. "Pipe dream, I know."_

 _"Speaking of, I have a train of pipes that Lady just switched that I need," Fay said. "See you later, Mitch."_

 _Lady sighed a little._ _Cressida had apparently replaced her._

 _She was worthless._

* * *

"Okay, one last truck," Billy said. "Wait, these are for Philip. He doesn't normally go to the Dieselworks, does he?"

"Not at all," Norman replied. "He doesn't like it here that much, so we have to take the parts to him."

"True laziness," Dennis remarked. "I admire that in an engine."

"Of course you do," Billy grumbled. "Diesel Ten, wanna come with?"

"Sure thing, Tangerine, but it can wait until the morning. I'm pooped."

"Me too," Billy admitted. He puffed into a siding in outside yard, while Diesel Ten left for his private shed.

"Didn't his shed use to be _inside_ the Dieselworks?" Paxton asked.

"It got moved outside after the old one burned down," Norman explained.

* * *

The next morning, two paths were about to converge. While Percy and Lady were returning from their mail run, Billy and Diesel Ten were going to drop off the parts truck at Philip's shed.

"Good morning, Diesel Ten!" Stanley called as he shunted Gordon's coaches out of their siding.

Diesel Ten honked back. "Back atcha, Stan!"

"Hey big guy!" Carly the coach chirped.

"Hey yourself."

Not too far away, Percy pulled into a siding. Lady was uncoupled from him. "Thanks for the tour, but now I gotta go take a nap," Lady groaned. "I'm not used to this late-night stuff."

"I've heard that newer electric engines have an easier time staying up late," Percy groaned.

"They'd have to be the newer ones, I personally can't," Stafford confirmed as he arranged a flatbed train for more catenary lines.

Lady was heading away when Charlie noticed and took control from his crew. "Wha– hey!" his driver exclaimed.

"Hey Lady! What's small and smells of oil?" Charlie asked, pushing a coil car whose coils weren't too terribly secured.

"Uh...a fish?" she asked.

"Nope! YOU!" Charlie biffed the coil car hard enough that one of the coils fell out and slammed into the supports of the old diesel fuel station, crushing them. With nothing to hold it up, the derrick tottered over, and Lady realized, too late, where she was standing. Burnett Stone hastily got out as the wooden oil drum shattered on impact, drenching her with black sludge.

Lady realized what happened and shuddered, frozen in place.

* * *

 _September 17, 1982._

 _"Hey Lady!" Kim grinned maniacally. "Your paint could use some work."_

 _"What do you mean?" Lady asked._

 _"Yeah, what_ do _you mean?" Taylor asked._

 _"_ You _know what I mean, you idiot!" Kim snapped._

 _"Oh yeah, I do!" Taylor, Miley, and Kim grinned at Lady viciously._

 _"Your paint needs work because it's...GARBAGE!" And with that, Kim rammed into Lady, knocking her into an old sewage treatment plant. The sewage drum broke..._

* * *

Lady couldn't handle her flashback anymore and sobbed. "Yeah, that's right! I'm the real purple engine here!" Charlie gloated as he reversed onto another track.

But everyone had seen everything. Diesel Ten growled and motored forward, luckily being on the same track as Charlie. "Get 'im," Tabitha muttered.

Charlie continued to laugh at Lady's misfortune, until something cold pressed against his buffers. He opened his eyes and gulped.

Diesel Ten leered at him. "And _what_ do you suppose you're doing?"

Charlie backed up. "U-uh, it was just a joke!"

"A JOKE?! That wasn't a joke! That was bullying! She was severely traumatized by something like that, and you know it!" As Diesel Ten spoke, his voice began to deepen.

"What's going on?" Percy asked nervously.

Diesel Ten blinked once, and when his eyes opened again, his sclerae were lava red, his once-green irises a flaming orange, and his pupils burned yellow-white-hot. **"YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO ALL ENGINES HERE! YOU ARE A SLACKER, AN IMMATURE CLOUT, A _BLOODY POOR EXCUSE FOR A STEAM ENGINE!"_** While he was saying this, he was moving towards Charlie while the latter reversed, the diesel's claw snapping erratically and routinely making sweeping passes at Charlie's face. **"YOU HAVE CAUSED NOTHING BUT TROUBLE TO THIS RAILWAY, AND YOU HAVE ATTACKED AN INNOCENT ENGINE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU NEAR LADY EVER AGAIN, AND IF YOU _DARE_ HARM HER, I WILL PERSONALLY SCRAP YOU MYSELF! _IS THAT UNDERSTOOD, MANNING WARDLE? BECAUSE SO HELP ME I WILL VIOLATE MY OWN PRINCIPLES JUST TO SEE THAT YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!_ "**

Charlie screamed as he ran out of Knapford Yard. **"AND DON'T COME BACK!"** Then Diesel Ten belted out a terrifying noise, both horns blaring combined with a low, guttural roar. It was heard everywhere on the island.

Sir Topham Hatt stumbled into the yard, trembling. "What the Dickens is going on here?" He saw Lady, still shivering and covered in diesel fuel, and Diesel Ten, breathing heavily as his eyes returned to normal.

"Charlie was mean to Lady," Stanley said quietly. "And Diesel Ten...flipped it."

Hatt sighed. "Botheration! Can't this railway have a _single_ day where nothing weird happens?" He groaned. "Percy, find Charlie and bring him back here. I have a few words I'd like to say to him. Lady, you need to get cleaned up. Nick, try not to lose your temper like that, I know it's hard, but you have to try. Stanley, once Gordon gets his coaches you're helping us clean up this mess, I _knew_ I should've torn down that derrick a long time ago. Everyone else, proceed as usual."

Diesel Ten sighed. "I hate the Deep Voice," he muttered as he buffered up to Lady. His coupling chain latched onto hers. "Hey, shh, it's okay, I'll get you cleaned up."

"...Thank you," Lady murmured, her lips still quivering.

* * *

"That was _really_ scary," Molly shivered at Knapford.

"Ah, please! We're engines! In a fight against a monster, we can win just by running them down!" James retorted.

"Not if that monster is an 85-ton diesel locomotive with a claw strong enough to crack granite," Jamie reminded him.

"Yeah, you're right. Can't believe Charlie _did_ such a thing, though. What a jerk. Guess Edward was right when he said his behavior was getting worse."

"His work ethic _was_ horrible when he got here," Molly agreed.

James' guard whistled. "Anyway, I gotta go. Stay safe, Molly."

"You too."

After her brother left, Jamie chuckled. "If he had more sense, he'd be a decent man."

"W-what are you implying?" Molly stammered.

"Not much."

"And...could he?"

"Hughes yes, he would. James and I lived much of our early years in a scrapyard, just two engines of many. We all had similar names, too. Jimmy, Jamison, Janice, Jamal, Jimbo, Rupert...and we all looked really alike, too. I was sent to Switzerland in 1954, but James stayed there longer, presumably until he was bought for the NWR in 1981. It...really stuck with him, not having much of an identity, not being able to do _anything_. So here, he's really protective over being able to do things he likes to do.

"And he's been so sheltered he hasn't been able to mature as much. Engines don't age like people do, so our maturation process is based on experience. Like Thomas; he's been alive since the 1960s but is mentally thirteen. I myself am only mentally eighteen, and I'm pushing ninety."

"Oh, that's...really interesting," Molly said. "Hey, do you wonder where Thomas is?"

"Eh, probably off on some shenanigan again."

* * *

Thomas had found Crana. "Crana, are you alright?"

"No! Two more Lifers, dead!"

"Edward mentioned BoCo mentioning an 'Anti-Life' movement," Thomas recalled. "Do you think it's them?"

"Perhaps," the coach replied. "If they _are_ coming for Sodor, that would seem likely. Stay sharp, Thomas."

"I don't know if I _can_. Call me crazy, but I'm actually starting to get sick of all the adventures. It's time someone else got to be the hero."

"It was time for someone else to be the hero a _long_ time ago, Thomas."

"What's that supposed to mean? ...Anyway, the reason I came is because of Diesel Ten, uh, Nick. What exactly...um...how do I say this...was up with him becoming a demon thingy?"

"Ah, the Deep Voice," Crana nodded. "A defect in his building process has allowed him to channel the emotions of Lifers who have passed on. Specifically, those who were treated like him, bullied and abused. He can channel their collective rage and strength if sufficiently provoked. It's not easy to control, however, and he seldom likes to use it."

* * *

Which is exactly what Diesel Ten was thinking as Lady was getting cleaned up.

"You didn't have to do this for me," Lady said.

"I did, and I am, so there." He sighed. "I _hate_ using the Deep Voice. Sorry if I scared you."

"No, it's fine. Charlie was a buttface." She looked up at him. "Why do you hate it?"

"It's not easy to control being angry. And for personal reasons. The first time it activated...I got kicked off my old railway."

"Oh, wow. What for?" Although Lady, in fact, figured she knew the reason, for that reason was also her own.

"I don't want to talk about it." He sighed. "Why, oh _why_ , am I designed this way? Everyone's afraid of me. Especially you, Pinchy," he said to his claw.

"I'm not afraid of your claw." Diesel Ten's eyes widened as he looked down at her, absolute seriousness in her silver eyes. "I'm actually _really_ jealous, my bunker itches and I don't have the hands to scratch it with."

"You'd be...the second Lifer who wasn't afraid," Diesel Ten sighed. "Thank you."

Lady yawned and fell asleep. Diesel Ten looked down at her and pondered. "Could I? ...I don't know, Pinchy. I don't want to forget..."

* * *

 **The Deep Voice is Diesel Ten's TATMRR voice, BTW.**

 **Now we see the fury of a diesel scorned. (Well, not really scorned, but you get the gist.) And we're getting closer and closer to the reason Diesel Ten is the way he is.**

 **Will Diesel Ten and Lady continue to grow close? Will his past stand in the way? How will Charlie be punished?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Geriatric Gordon!  
**


	19. Geriatric Gordon

"Charlie, I KNOW about what you did to Lady," Sir Topham Hatt glowered. "Your behavior has grown horrendous over these years, and even though I _tried_ to get you to become a better engine, you weren't completely willing to meet me halfway. I have no choice but to send you away, like my father and grandfather before me have sent away troublesome engines like Alfred and Crovan."

"But sir!" Charlie protested. "I didn't do anything wrong! She was taking my work! Billy, back me up on this!"

"Sorry Charlie," Billy shrugged. "But you brought this on yourself." And he left without a word.

Well, almost without a word.

"Hypocrite," he muttered under his breath.

* * *

A few days later, the NWR was almost completely electrified, only a small bit of branchline to Brendam and Kirk Ronan still bare. Just in time for Gordon's 100th birthday. "So _this_ is what Knapford looks like!" Nikola marveled as the Peel Godred fleet rolled up to the big station, eight engines of the many in attendance.

"I know! It's _beautiful_!" Lucy agreed.

"Man, this takes me back," Wattson sighed. "I came through this way back when I was first ordered. It was smaller then."

"And you were a lot angrier," Jouleia giggled. "We've grown so much since those years."

"And I am proud that my younger brother and sister have gotten along so well," Faraday said proudly. He frowned. "Though I _do_ wish it didn't necessitate my derailment..."

"Everyone, PLEASE quiet down!" the stationmaster said. Everyone hushed. "Today is a very special day. On this day one hundred years ago, Sir Nigel Gresley brought the first of his A1 Pacifics to life, the first of twenty-four members of the class to become Lifers. That locomotive will be addressing us today. Gordon?"

"Yes, yes, thank you," Gordon said. He coughed. "Well, I never _did_ believe in not getting to the point quickly, plus many of you hate it when I drone on and on."

" _Finally_ he notices," Thomas chuckled off to the side.

"So I'll sum up my history. I came to Sodor after the end of the Second World War, embittered and cold. I saw so many atrocities then that I forgot how to find joy in life, a demeanor I still carry on today. Sure, I can still be a bit of a jerk, but at least I'm right some of the time. And you know it.

"But enough of my shameless self-promotion. The last few years have been some of the most tumultuous in my life. From accidents to new friends, from meeting the queen to getting streamlined, these recent events have served to challenge my age-old views.

"I once feared diesel traction, for to make room for them my entire class save Flying Scotsman and myself were exterminated. And I know that that's true for many other locomotives too. Dear friends, beloved lovers, entire classes have gone extinct. And we wrongly feared that the diesels _wanted_ this to happen.

"But now I know one thing: the diesels didn't ask for this, and they have suffered the same fate as us steamers. The Class 55s which replaced my brothers and sisters were in turn replaced by the High Speed Trains, and they in turn by the Class 800 and Class 801 electrodiesels. And even before me, new steamers displaced their elders frequently.

"So why the fuss? Because diesels were a new technology we didn't understand, and we were never given an explanation as to why we were suddenly being withdrawn by the hundreds. But I know now that we were only replaced because of _money._ People didn't want to spend the money to keep an old kettle alive and running. Beeching was never in high esteem in my eyes, but he at least had the grace to declare Lifers an asset to the world worthy of preservation.

"I once feared diesels. But after Diesel Ten, or Nick as he _should_ be known, performed an admirable job pulling my express, I had to rethink everything I thought I knew. And that led me to an unavoidable conclusion: I have been nothing short of a hypocritical jerk. Why, my own designer Sir Nigel Gresley designed the Class 76 electrics! I am now proud to welcome my distant cousins into my family, wherever they are.

"I turn a hundred years old today. A hundred years old. I can't do as much now as I once could. After thinking it over, I think it's time I handle the reins to another engine. Not entirely, but I would like to cut down my daily express runs from thrice daily to twice daily. Though Nick has expressed his preferences as a goods engine, I formally give him permission to be a reserve engine in case I am broken. But who should I give one of my daily express runs to? I believe that I may know the answer.

"After a recent run I met two Class 43 HST's who are in need of a new home now that they're being retired. I believe Pip and Emma would make for fine workers and friends on this railway, and Sir Bertram Topham Hatt, I hope, will take this suggestion under advisement.

"Before I end this speech, there's something I would like to say. For those who've read Seuss, you may understand what I mean:

"I now fully acknowledge that I've been a fool. For a Lifer's a Lifer, no matter their fuel. Thank you, everyone."

As the humans clapped and engines whistled and honked, Diesel Ten, standing on a platform near the big engine, looked on proudly. "Guess not all steamers are bad after all," he chuckled. "Heh, even _Gordon_ managed to grow up." He watched as Gordon's driver got out and embraced his wife.

"He did smashing," his wife said.

"He sure did, Cressida."

Hearing that name made Diesel Ten's oil run cold. His face paled, his pupils shrank, his claw went slack.

"Wow! What an honor!" Percy said as he puffed up to Diesel Ten. "You're gonna be so important now! Uh...you okay?"

Diesel Ten panted, his breathing forced and rapid as the tears welled up. Then he shrieked "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" and raced out of Knapford.

"...whatever did I do _this_ time?" Percy asked in a small voice.

"What's up with him?" Thomas asked as everyone looked on in shock.

"I don't know, but we're finding out," Lady said.

"Wha– _we_?!"

"Yes, _we_! Because he needs to know that even _you_ are capable of being nice to him!" She whistled. "Follow me, everyone! I think I might know where he's going."

* * *

As they chuffed along, Thomas decided to ask something. "Y'know, I never _did_ find out why those stories about you got written."

Lady groaned. "Because the writer had a grudge against me!"

"Oh? What for?"

"She came to my old railway a while back toting her books. They were _really_ popular among the humans there. Me, I didn't care for them."

"Why not?"

"Because the main characters were a bunch of Mary Sues who always got their way and never had to work for anything! And the books were _way_ too long, the pacing was slow as heck. I said so when she interviewed us. None of the Lifers really cared for them, heh, it was the only thing we _all_ agreed on, but she held a grudge against me because I was able to defend my position eloquently."

"So she wrote you as a magical being to get you unwanted attention and make you uncomfortable?"

"Yep, total petty revenge. Turn left."

* * *

They found Diesel Ten near the shed where Lady hid herself in weeks earlier. He was crying and violently trembling, his driver trying to comfort him to no avail.

"Uh, you okay?" Thomas asked.

"NO! And why would _you_ care?!" Diesel Ten growled.

"Because...because I do. I care if engines aren't feeling okay. I know, I've been rude to you, and I'm sorry. Please, tell us what's wrong so we can help you."

Lady appeared on the track next to him and looked at the diesel. It broke her seeing him so sad.

"If I may," Jamie volunteered, "he seemed to be triggered when Gordon's driver hugged his wife."

"Yeah, that _is_ what happened," Gordon agreed. "Whatever would the reason be?"

"I heard her name," Diesel Ten shuddered.

"What? Cressida? What objection do you have to it?"

"It wasn't just the name of your driver's wife," Diesel Ten gulped. He breathed in and dropped the bombshell:

"It was also the name of mine."

* * *

 **Oh say can you say wham episode?**

 **How did Diesel Ten marry Cressida? What happened to her? Are we finally getting the reason for his depression?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Cressida's Lament!**


	20. Cressida's Lament

The air grew silent as they processed what he'd said. "You...were married?" Edward asked finally. "To who?"

"Cressida, as I said. EMD GP9, worked the Denver & Rio Grande until she was brought to life in 1962, sent to Muffle Mountain afterwards and then to Mesa Roja in 1982." He sighed. "Kind. Loving. Understanding. She...she was the love of my life."

"And...did you separate?" Molly asked.

"No."

Molly gasped. "O-oh my...s-she's dead?"

"Has been since '97."

"Oh, Nick!" Molly sobbed. "That's horrible! How'd it happen?"

Diesel Ten looked at them. He could trust them. "Y'know how I told you about how I got my fear of sugar? I didn't tell you everything. Cressida drove off the guy who did it and took me to get cleaned up. I was really shaken up by it and wasn't even able to talk much for a while. But Cressie...she helped me get back on my wheels. That's where it started.

"When I staged my protest, she was the first to support me. When I wanted to pull a passenger train for once, she was the one who asked for it for me. I never really got why until...

* * *

July 14, 1988. Nick, with a passenger train, and Cressida, with a freight train, were waiting for Sanders to pass. He grimaced at them as he left.

"He's just jealous that he's not as high-class as us," Nick said.

Cressida laughed. "I suppose." She looked down, an unresolved tension. "Nick," she asked suddenly, "how much of an age gap should there be between lovers?"

"Gosh, I don't know...eight years max?"

"I mean for Lifers."

"It's weird for us since machines don't age like..." He realized what she meant. "You're talking about you and me, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I mean...you've grown to be a fine engine. Smart, kind, funny...I just hope you're not weirded out by an old bird like me."

"Nonsense! I've had like the biggest crush on you for years! Of course I'd be happy to be yours," he replied. His eyes widened. "Crap, I said that out loud."

"Don't worry. I'm just glad it's reciprocated." They locked eyes and smiled.

 _"We dated for two years, then got married in 1990."_

Nick lowered his claw to Cressida's face, and she gently kissed the back of it. Nick had a magnetic bowtie stuck to his front bufferbeam, while Cressida had a white veil on her hood. Since she had a massive footplate, she could never kiss him on the mouth (then again, few Lifer couples could).

The various engines of Mesa Roja honked and tooted in approval. Nick remembered them all, even after all these years. They were Angela, the ex-ATSF Santa Fe Class 3460; Sierra, the ex-Southern Pacific AC-12; Roosevelt, the USATC S160 Class; Caroline, the USRA Class SR; Mikado, the USRA Heavy Mikado; Tim, the Timken Four Aces; Ashley, the ex-Norfolk and Western J Class; Virgil, the ex-Virginian EL-C; Zach, the ex-Milwaukee Road ES-1; Doris, the ex-Great Northern W1; Yolanda, the ex-Pennsylvania Railroad L5; Mastodon, the ex-Norfolk and Western Class M; Turner, the ex-Pennsylvania Railroad S1; Bob, Suzy, and Jim, the ex-Great Northern Boxcab 3's; Schenectady, the ex-New York Central ALCO PB; Hudson, the ex-Milwaukee Road F6; Alex, the ex-Soo Line ALCO RS-1; Nichole, the ex-New Haven GE 44-ton switcher; Quentin, the ex-B&O Baldwin AS-616; Enrique, the ex-Texas & Pacific Railroad EMD NW2; Luis, the ex-NdeM EMD FP9; Margarita, the ex-NdeM ALCO Century 424; Juan, the ex-ATSF EMC TA; Rena, the ex-ATSF EMD FP45; Chuck, the ex-Pennsylvania Railroad J1; and Wayne, the ex-Pennsylvania Railroad N1. Only Vinnie, the ex-Canadian Railroads U4a, Sanders, the ex-Milwaukee Road Class A, and Carson, the ex-Union Pacific P-13, were silent.

 _"Best. Seven years. Of my life."_

Nick and Cressida looked at their favorite constellation, Hercules, together. Nick had his arm around Cressida. They sighed happily, basking in their love.

* * *

"So what happened?" Thomas asked.

Diesel Ten sighed.

* * *

It was May 18, 1997. A terrible rainstorm parked itself over Mesa Roja that night and refused to let up. Nick and Cressida had been caught in it on their way back from a delivery. They were on a hill in one of the area's few forests, near a city.

"This is really bad rain," Nick grumbled. "Where can we go until it stops?"

"There's a tunnel not far from here with some sidings," Cressida replied. "We can hide in there until it lets up." A small tree toppled over in the wind right in front of them. Their eyes widened. "Preferably quickly," she added hastily.

Nick hefted the tree out of the way. "Yeah, let's."

And they raced off. But more small trees kept being knocked over, and Nick had to quickly smack them out of the way. The rain poured harder, lightning flashed and thunder roared. The tunnel came into sight.

"We can make it!" the two engines cried. Cressida had gotten in front of him...

And that's when a massive pine tree fell right on top of her.

Nick screamed "NO!" He got a grip on the tree and flung it away, giving him a full view of the horror before him as the lightning flashed in silence.

Cressida's middle had been completely crushed. Judging by the red pulp dangling limply from her broken windows, her crew had been killed instantly. Diesel leaked from her broken fuel tank, and brake fluid from her mouth. She coughed weakly.

"Cressida!" he said. "No, no, _please_ be okay!" Tears began to fall. "Driver, call for help!" A series of taps. "What do you _mean_ , your cellphone's out of battery?!" Another tap. "And my radio's bust?!" He growled to himself, before noticing a woman from the city taking a walk near the track. "Miss! Excuse me! My wife's hurt and I need you to call for help!"

The woman looked at him. "No," she said.

Nick's jaw dropped. "What? Why not?!"

"Because you're a diesel. If you were steam engines, you'd be worth preserving. But there are literal hundreds of diesels, she can be replaced." She sneered at Cressida. "Plus, her class doomed American steam to extinction. I say that she deserves this punishment." And the woman left.

Nick shuddered. "No...no...no!"

* * *

Five hours later, Nichole had been sent to find him. All efforts of Nick's driver to find help had failed. "Nick? What – _oh my Edison_!" She gasped in horror. "What happened to Cressida?!"

"She got hit by a tree!" Nick sobbed.

"I'll get help right away!"

* * *

But things didn't look too good. The next day, a mechanic was looking over her while most of the Mesa Roja fleet watched. Cressida's breathing had become pained and slowed.

"No good," he sighed, shaking his head sadly. "If we'd gotten her earlier, there'd be a chance of us stabilizing her while we rebuilt her. There are enough Lugg GP9's out there for that to be possible. But because that lady refused to call for help...Diesel Nine's not gonna make it. I'm sorry, everyone, but we've done literally everything we could've."

Nick rushed forwards. "Cressida...please...don't leave me..." he sobbed.

Cressida coughed. Her face was pale. "My darling Dominic. You gave me the best time of my life. I will never forget you, not even for a second."

"Please...don't die!"

"I have no choice...my damage is too great. It's...time. But listen to me, and listen well. Don't worry about me. You will be alright. And you will find love once again."

Her eyes closed and her breathing stopped. Her face dissolved in a flash of yellow sparkles, leaving a white square of paint where it had once been. She was dead now.

Nick sobbed and wailed, his friends looking on sadly.

"GET BACK TO WORK, ALL OF YOU!" Slim Lawson growled, killing the moment.

"Sir, have some decency! The kid just lost his wife!" Luis snapped.

"Bah, she's a diesel! There's tons of them!"

The engines glared at him. "You are a _terrible_ man," the scar-faced Caroline snapped. "And you are a _disgusting_ perversion of our railway's legacy. I hope you get your karma some day very, _very_ soon."

* * *

With Cressida gone, all the progress she and Nick had made for diesel rights were swiftly undone. The steamers were given their individual liveries again, and in a cruel twist of fate, Nick was on scrap duty.

He sighed as, without any motivation, he dumped scrap metal into a gondola. "Don't worry big guy, we think you're okay," said one of them.

"It's not you who I'm worried about." Suddenly, some puffing. " _Oh, n_ _ot now_."

"Hey hey hey, looks like your little stunt didn't work after all!" Vinnie grinned as he, Sanders, and Carson pulled up in front of him. They were back in their old liveries: Vinnie in gray and dark blue, Sanders in orange and red, and Carson in black and maroon.

"I gotta admit Vin, we look snazzy once again," Carson grinned. "And all it took was the death of a diesel."

"Good riddance, I say," Sanders growled. "I was nearly killed to make room for a DL-107 and an EMD E6."

"You were replaced by the Milwaukee Road F7, a _steam_ locomotive," Nick deadpanned.

"But _they_ were replaced by diesels!"

"Yeah!" Vinnie agreed. "Just a stupid motorbox on wheels. All of you!"

Something inside Nick snapped. He could feel the souls of many engines who were killed for petty reasons, killed by other engines who never got punished for it. And right at the front was the voice of his beloved wife, only without her usual warmth:

 **Avenge me.**

Nick's eyes turned red. **"DO NOT _DARE_ SPEAK ABOUT DIESELS THAT WAY!"** he roared.

"Oh, I'm _so_ scared," Carson said sarcastically. "Not! Get a life, loser!"

As the three steamers left, cackling madly, Nick lost it and swung his claw at Vinnie's tender. It made a _bong_ noise and lightly scratched the paint. But it was enough to snap Nick out of his trance. "What have I done?!" he asked himself. "I promised Mother I would never harm another Lifer."

"You. Are. DEAD!" Vinnie snapped. Nick panicked and ran away, but Vinnie chased after him, his friends egging him on. Eventually he caught up and rammed Nick off the rails and into the dust.

"Hah! I'M the champ around here!" Vinnie boasted.

* * *

"You hurt Vinnie!" Slim growled after Alex and Zach had come to rerail him.

"Vinnie got a tiny scratch! I got a major dent in my side!" Nick protested.

"Well, I don't like you, so there! In fact, I never liked you, so I'm sending you away to Britain where your kind _belongs_! I've been meaning to do that forever, I just got a chance to now!" The engines stood there, slack-jawed. "You're a stupid engine, Diesel Ten! Now LEAVE AND NEVER RETURN!"

Nick sighed as he left, shaking and sobbing. Alex and Zach were about to go with him, but Lawson stopped them. "And you two! Get back to work!"

* * *

Once on the boat to the UK, Nick thought. "He's right, Pinchy," he said to his claw, trying in vain to keep his wife's memories alive by treating his claw like it was alive. "I _AM_ just a stupid engine. I don't even deserve my name." And from that day on, Nick was no more.

He was now just Diesel Ten.

* * *

"So that's my story," Diesel Ten said in the present. "And to this day, I have to wonder: _can_ a freak of nature ever have any hope to fulfill his wife's final wish? I think not. Of course, I don't think many of you can relate."

The others stood there silently. But then one of them broke it. "Actually, I do."

Lady wheeled forward and buffered up to Diesel Ten. "Cressida was from _my_ railway before yours, remember?" She started crying. "I knew her. I...I loved her like you loved her." This caused some raised eyebrows. "It's a terrible way to come out," she laughed sadly, "I know, but I was just so _broken_ when I found out she died..."

* * *

The same time that the drama at Mesa Roja was happening, Lady was sobbing. "N-no...she can't be dead!"

"She is," Stone confirmed. "I wish she hadn't." He patted her bunker.

"Heh, good riddance! Who gives a crap about a diesel?" Kim boasted as her friends pulled into the yard.

"Uh, another diesel?" Taylor guessed.

"I suppose, but not _us_ ," Miley replied. "We're better than them. So sleek...so chic..." She sighed blissfully.

"Oh, and lookit that! The little tank engine misses her! Sheesh, what a freak," Kim groaned.

Lady growled as flames began to flicker out of her mouth. "That. Is. IT! I am SICK and TIRED of having to deal with you three! You know what? I'm gonna say it. You're NOT sleek or chic! You are the most unattractive engines I have ever met! See that caboose over there?"

"Hey, no need to drag me into this!" Brown, the old and mostly decrepit ex-PRR N6b, protested.

"Your faces look just like, no, they're even UGLIER, than his cruddy, rusty, crumbly old–"

* * *

"ASSUMING you were justified, you swore in public!" the manager of Muffle Mountain, Lydia Crawford, growled at Lady.

"They get away with much worse!" Lady protested.

"I don't care! Lady, you are hereby BANISHED from Muffle Mountain! Go back to the GWR where your blueprints came from."

"FINE! I don't care about your crappy railway anyway!" Lady huffily puffed away. As soon as she was outside its limits, she broke down crying.

* * *

"And many of us have lost, too," Lady said sadly. "Most of us have no other family except this one. Nick, _please_. You don't have to be alone any more. You never had to be..."

Ten couldn't hold it in any longer and cried heavily, with Lady following suit soon after as they grieved together.

"Tomorrow," Sir Topham Hatt said sadly, "shall be a day of mourning. For all of us, but especially for this poor man who lost everything and who we all should've done more for."

The Steam Team solemnly agreed.

* * *

 **The next chapter will be another song, this one original.**

 **So now you know the horrible truth. How will the engines mourn? Will Diesel Ten fulfill Cressida's wish? Or has he already done so?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– The Ballad of Dominic!**


	21. The Ballad of Dominic

_June 1, 1997._

Diesel Ten rolled off the boat, setting wheel on Sodor for the first time. "Ah, Dominic!" a younger, still in possession of his hair, Sir Bertram Topham Hatt greeted him.

"It's Diesel Ten now, sir," the diesel replied.

"Oh, I see." An awkward silence. "I hope you enjoy your stay. ...And you know, you aren't alone in your grief. My father Sir Charles passed away very recently, and I...I don't know what I'm going to do now now that I don't have his guidance anymore."

Diesel Ten grunted. "With all due respect, Sir, I don't think you fully understand it. I just lost my _wife_." And he left huffily.

* * *

A long time later, it was May 19, 2022. Gordon had been brought to life the day before in 1922, not long after Great Northern had been completed. But this day was a different event's date: the 1997 death of Mesa Roja D9, ex-Muffle Mountain No. 11, ex-Denver & Rio Grande Western #5924 EMD GP9 Cressida at the hands of a fallen tree and a bigoted woman. It was an official day of mourning, and fittingly, the sky was gray and dull.

In her secret hiding place, Crana sighed sadly, the ghosts of many Lifers drifting around her, one in particular lingering around longer. Crana looked into the sky and sang softly and sadly.

 _Built to see if a train could grow more strong,_

 _Meant to go out there and prove them all wrong,_

 _Dominic, the Electro-Motive Forty-two and a Half,_

 _Set off for life on a quite lonely path._

* * *

 _June 6, 1997_

"I don't want to get on his bad side," Dodge grimaced. "The locomotives in America are big enough to eat the likes of us for lunch."

"Talking to him is the right thing to do," Splatter replied. They'd made the brave move to approach him. "Say, Diesel Ten, was it? You seem quite sad. I think I know what'll cheer you right up!"

"What?" Diesel Ten groaned.

"A nice coat of paint of your own choosing!"

Diesel Ten looked at his light blue paint. The painful memories it held. "You got anything in gold?" he asked.

* * *

Billy sighed as he shunted some trucks under a loader, feeling quite out of it. The trucks were too sad to play any tricks.

 _Built to be useful, like everyone else,_

 _But denied a chance due to how he moved himself,_

 _Dominic, the youngest engine of his fleet,_

 _Knew that much better was what he would need._

* * *

 _July 26, 2000_

In his shed, Diesel Ten sobbed, nursing his injuries from when Nigel derailed him. "I wasn't allowed to come...and that engine from your old railway doesn't like me...Cressie, I-I, I failed you."

* * *

Thomas, Rosie, and Emily looked at each other, uncertain.

 _Injured by humans so cruel and unkind,_

 _But then he met a most similar mind:_

 _Dominic met Cressida, the tender GP9;_

 _By her love, his life would grow to be defined._

* * *

 _September 6, 2005._

Diesel Ten sulked as he cleared a line of fallen tree bits. "Uh, excuse me?" he heard a timid voice say. Thomas pulled up next to him. _Ugh, not HIM again. Doesn't he have a branchline he should be on or some junk?_

 _"What is it, puffball?"_ Diesel Ten growled.

"Uh, well, because of a bunch of silly things that I don't have time to explain, we need you to help clear the airport of a fallen water tower!"

"And why should I help _you_? _You're_ the one responsible for half of those quote-unquote silly things from what 'Arry and Bert have told me."

"Because we're all gonna suffer if we can't have the holidaymakers land! Plus you'll be really useful."

Diesel Ten sighed. Cressida would've wanted him to extend the olive branch (or in this case, London sycamore). "Alright, I'll come. But I'm NOT doing this for _you_. I'm doing this for the _railway_."

* * *

 _Forced into uniform unlike those fueled by coal,_

 _Spreading equality soon became his goal._

 _Dominic succeeded in hiding the paint,_

 _An action that made his old managers faint._

James sighed. He promised himself that, though he wasn't sure if he could not be cocky or boastful anymore, he would never complain about goods work ever again. Because he was lucky that he was even alive at all.

 _Earning her love despite difference in age,_

 _Domissida quickly became all the rage._

 _Dominic, the husband, whip-smart and bold,_

 _Thought his love would last till he was old._

* * *

 _August 8, 2011_

The doors of the Dieselworks slammed open. Diesel Ten dragged a groaning Sidney in on a flatbed. "Whoa, uh, er," Den stammered.

"What 'e's tryin' ta say is, what happened to Sidney?" Dart asked in shock.

"Braked too hard going down Gordon's Hill, all six wheels went flat," was the explanation. "C'mon Sid, let's get you fixed."

"That'll take _forever_ ," Bert groaned. "Fatt Hatt never listens to us. You asked him to get us a new crane last March and one _still_ hasn't come!"

"These things take time," Dart replied.

"They shouldn't take _this_ long," Diesel Ten scoffed. "Seriously, who does he think he is? He welcomes all of us, saves us from scrapping, and _this_ is how we're supposed to stay in working order? It's like he doesn't care. It's always those bloody steamers. Especially Thomas."

"Oi, Ten! There's another steamie on the island!" Diesel yelled as he entered. "She's a royal blue BR Standard Class 4 that Thomas is suddenly infatuated with! I swear, when was the last time we had a new diesel?"

"Me!" said new diesel replied as Paxton followed his older brother.

"Always steamers, never diesels...wait, I've got it!" Diesel Ten grinned. "If we hold Thomas hostage, and get Percy who's no doubt jealous of Thomas' short attention span to help us take over the Steamworks without him knowing, we can _make_ Hatt listen!" He trundled off, chuckling darkly. "You're a mean one, Diesel Ten..."

But when the Dieselworks burned down two weeks later, Diesel Ten realized something. "I've become the monster I tried so hard not to be," he gasped, before sobbing. "Oh, Cressida, what have I _done_?!"

* * *

Edward, BoCo, Tim, Marion, and the China Clay Twins huddled together. "Is anything bad going to happen to us, Edward?" Bill asked shyly.

"Not if I can help it," Edward replied.

 _But then..._

* * *

 _His world was destroyed._

 _His lover was vanquished._

 _Intolerance and hatred ended Cressida's life._

In Peel Godred, the flag of Sodor was raised half-mast, and the electric engines lowered their pantographs in respect.

 _Dominic the widower, broken and sad,_

 _Driven away because they said he was bad._

* * *

Reg watched as a crude effigy he'd made of Cressida out of an old metal file drawer, trash can lids, and some mangled chicken wire entered the scrapyard's furnace. It burned.

 _His soul was burned,_

 _His psyche torn,_

 _Dominic became no more._

 _No longer did he want to be anyone's friend._

 _Now he was the monster known as Diesel Ten._

* * *

The Skarloey railway looked at Duke, who sadly remembered when he'd found out that Bertram, his brother, had seemingly passed on.

The _monster he never wanted to be._

* * *

The Culdee Fell railway looked at Godred, who had actually survived his famous accident, but was so thoroughly traumatized he had never spoken again.

 _The monster of a thousand rabid enemies._

* * *

Gordon pulled his express sadly. He knew what the shock of losing loved ones felt like better than anyone else.

 _Diesel Ten, the villain of the story of the year,_

 _Exactly what people had wanted to hear._

* * *

Henry looked at the tunnel he'd hidden in when he was fresh from his crash, afraid of everything.

 _But it doesn't have to end, not this way._

 _His story continues to this day._

* * *

Toby and Henrietta looked at each other knowingly. "I don't think I've ever gotten a chance to say this, but...I love you," Toby said.

"Me too," Henrietta replied. "Me too."

 _Go and search your feelings, Nick, you know that it's true._

 _You have helped us, now we will help you._

 _Let's change your ending, give you a fresh start,_

 _So we can repair the cracks in your heart!_

* * *

That night, the sky cleared. Lady and Diesel Ten, no, Nick, looked at Hercules together. Then at each other. They cried again, as one.

 _You've been battered and bruised, teased and abused._

 _But now it's time to show you how we treasure you._

 _You are Dominic, the North Western Railway's greatest engine!_

Lady fell asleep. Nick looked at her and realized something about her. He blushed.

 _And you will find love..._

 _Again._

* * *

 **End of Act Two.**


	22. Arrival

**(AN: I made this story many moons ago, I'm just now putting it up. The following review of reviews is an addition to the original document).**

 **Boss Teal, on the singing: Thanks!**

 **Bloopydoo, on self-esteem: Hugs ARE good, and Nick needs a lot of them.**

 **Ninjalinda, on the massive OC roster: Thanks! The large number of OC's is partly to reflect reality; according to one of the supplemental books of the Railway Series, there were _eighty_ engines on the NWR, most of which we never saw.**

 **Guest, on the deaths: Boomer will be getting his karma, but half the fandom disagrees with your first statement.**

 **Guest, on the future: No, Gordon keeps his express (mostly). Nick's finally falling for Lady; will it continue? Let's find out, shall we?**

 **Guest, on the hilarious title: Which makes the ending that much more of a plot twist!**

 **JwwProd, on Domissida: Another plot twist!**

 **Chaoslord678, on the title song: Thanks! That song is primarily based off The Hymn of Acxiom.**

* * *

"Hey Salty, you know that inspection we got scheduled for?" Cranky asked.

"That I do, matey! What be it that's ticklin' yer mind?" the Class 07 asked.

"Because I think the inspectors are here, and they appear to be coming by boat."

Salty revved up and his jaw dropped when he saw what Cranky was looking at. "That there be the biggest ship I ever did see."

"Yeah, I know," Porter agreed, awed.

P. T. Boomer's ship docked at the spot where the rails met the edge. Six massive locomotives rolled off: a GG1, an EF-4 "Little Joe", an ex-Rock Island Line EMD E8, an ex-Conrail EMD SW900, a Milwaukee Road Class S3 4-8-4, and a Milwaukee Road Class F6 4-6-4. None of them were Lifers; they were Luggs, lifeless locomotives.

Boomer himself hopped off the front of the F6. "Where is Fatt Hatt?" he growled at Porter.

"Uh, I d-don't know, probably in his office at Knapford?" Porter shivered nervously.

Boomer scowled but nodded at his compatriots. "Lock up the boat! No one but us are getting in that thing. Once that's done, follow me!" He got back on the F6, which roared to life and puffed away.

"Good thing we already fortified yon branchlines after Gordon's little misadventure," Salty said to himself.

* * *

The F6 rumbled down the line. It was one of the biggest locomotives many of the NWR had seen, and it wasn't anywhere close to the biggest size an American locomotive could get.

"Whoa!" Gordon gasped as the engine shot past him.

"Oi! Mind your speed!" Tabitha shouted.

"Tabs, that was a Lugg," Nadia replied.

"It was?" Tabitha shivered. "I _know_ most vehicles never come alive, but it's still so unnerving to see one of us who isn't."

"Agreed," Gordon said crossly.

* * *

The F6 pulled into Knapford. Boomer hopped off it and knocked on the door of Sir Topham Hatt's office rudely. "Open up!"

"No need to get in a fuss!" Topham opened the door. Lady Hatt was also there. "Oh, Mr. Boomer. Strange, you were supposed to have arrived an hour from now."

"Things...took a little less time to clean up than we'd expected," Boomer replied coolly, still remembering the thrill of slaughtering that live bus that morning. "Why are you here, and not among your engines?"

"I have to be here so I can manage what everyone's doing. Running a railway takes a lot of time and effort," Topham replied.

"And cream buns!" Percy added cheekily as he passed with a goods train.

"Yes, and–" Topham did a double take before realizing what Percy had said and facepalming. Jane giggled.

"Aren't you going to discipline him, Hatt?" Boomer asked.

"No, that was just harmless banter. A little bit is good to keep their minds sharp."

"Leave it to the steamie to pull such an old gag," Diesel grumbled as he passed with some milk tankers.

"But racist remarks don't count. Knock it off, Diesel, or I'll put you back in Tidmouth Harbor's shunting yard!"

"Okay, FINE."

After Diesel was gone, Boomer was most confused. "You don't threaten them with scrapping?"

The Hatts looked horrified. "What? No! That's much too drastic and disproportionate! The worst we go is locking them up in their sheds until they behave!" Topham spluttered.

"And that...works?"

"Very well, actually," Jane replied. "Through many studies and our own experiences with them, Lifers are psychologically dependent on doing work. Denying that is therefore an incredibly effective method of moderating their behavior. It was first really demonstrated with my husband's father, Charles Topham Hatt, who got Henry, Gordon, and James to stop objecting to getting their own coaches via a strike. Threatening to put them on tedious jobs is also highly effective."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Boomer left on the F6.

"Jane? If that's how all Americans treat Lifers..."

"It isn't, Lady sees her driver like a father. Good people exist regardless of their homeland."

"Unfortunately," Edward said cynically as he entered the station, "they're not the ones in power."

* * *

"Hm...those coaches look...familiar..." Lady said to herself as she approached the teal-and-white cars.

"And so do you!" Connor puffed in. "Hi Lady! Long time no see, huh?"

"Connor!" Lady gasped. "I'll say, it's been twenty-five years! How're you and Caitlin?"

"Pretty good!" Caitlin said, suddenly appearing. "Our old managers sold us off to cover a gambling debt. That, and there were still people back home who wanted me scrapped. We're so happy that the Earl bought us."

"He's a great man, Lady," Connor added. "Robert Norramby loves Lifers almost as much as the Hatt dynasty does!"

"Then I suppose I'll be seeing more of him." Lady shunted Connor's coaches to him. "Okay Caitlin, you're next!"

"No she isn't! There's an inspection!" came an unfamiliar voice. A woman hopped out of the GG1 and marched over to the Baldwin 101 1/2.

"That's today?" Connor asked Caitlin, who shrugged.

The woman got in front of Lady. "Miss, this is _highly_ unprofessional," Burnett commented.

"Shaddap." The woman forcibly put her hand on Lady's face, opening her right eyelids as far as they would go.

"Ow! Mind the scars!" Lady winced. The woman payed no heed and did the same for her other eye. Then she shoved her fingers up the tank engine's nose, before proceeding to stick her hands into her mouth.

"Geg yur rucka rands gow gov guy rucka roh," Lady, visibly angry, said through the woman's hands.

"Excuse me?" the woman snapped, taking her hands out.

"Never mind."

The woman went back to the GG1. Before she left, she was heard saying "Boomer WILL be pleased."

"For an engine named Lady you certainly aren't very ladylike," a blue truck commented.

"Stuff it, Rickety."

"Boomer?" Burnett asked, suddenly worried.

"What about his name?" Caitlin asked while Lady went to get her coaches.

"I know a Boomer. I met him at a bar in '91 back at Muffle Mountain. He called me a lunatic for wanting to drive a Lifer." He sighed. "After my girlfriend passed, though, I didn't have much to live for. But Lady, you gave me that new something."

"I know, and you're welcome. So the Boomer guy is trouble?"

"I believe he is. We'll have to keep an eye on him." Lady nodded thoughtfully and went back to work.

* * *

 **This chapter's a little short, but they'll gradually get longer!**

 **The inspection has thus begun. But is it _really_ an inspection? Or is something more sinister in store for Sodor? What will the controllers say?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– The Engines Have Had Enough!  
**


	23. The Engines Have Had Enough

Nick sighed. He was on the Mainland for a fuel run and was anxious to return home. But the signal was taking a long time to change, far longer than usual. "I swear, nationalization may be over, but they STILL managed to bug up everything."

"You don't know the half of it, kid." Nick had figured he had company, he'd heard the clack of their wheels, but when he looked to his left he was in for a shock. The source of the baritone female voice was an actual BR 42, painted black with purple accents. She had an air of gruffness and cynicism around her, not helped by the state of her face. Her scars were far more severe than Lady's, to the point that her right eye was completely blind.

"I suppose I don't," he replied meekly. "You know me?"

"'Course I know you, Nick! I was really excited that the Golden got those sticks out of their funnels when you won. Wish it went better than it did." She smiled. "Though I don't suppose you know _me_ , so I'll tell ya. I'm Glory, though I go by Daniella these days. There aren't many of us Warships left; Onslaught and Chris Broadhurst are my only surviving brothers I got. Well, and you."

"You really think so?"

"A couple extra parts from the US doesn't change much about who you are. My brothers and I are proud to welcome you as our little half-brother." The signal changed at last. "Now get out there and change the world!"

"I will!"

* * *

But when he returned, he found that the world had already changed. The engines of the Dieselworks were rabbling angrily. Even Paxton! Nick blew his second horn and everyone snapped to attention.

"Quiet!" Nick snapped. "Now can someone tell me what's going on?"

"The inspection," Norman grunted. "And it's right awful!"

"They said we weren't doing a good job of cleaning up the place!" Dart snapped. "I mean, fair enough, but did they have to be so rude about it?"

"That's, uh, I don't know?" Den asked.

"Exactly!"

"They told me I should've been around the island more," BoCo scoffed. "As though I were able to! I got trainnapped in late 2000!"

"They laughed at me having teething troubles in the past!" Derek fumed.

"And they said the designs of my seats were tacky!" Daisy spluttered. "They can complain about my swerves, they can gripe about my work ethic, but NO INSPECTOR disses my **seats**!"

"Anyone else want to air a complaint?" Billy asked crankily. "Because they told _me_ I need braces! I can't help my dentition, some dunderhead smacked the inside of my smokebox with a hammer before I was brought to life!"

"And those jokers stuck their hands all over my face!" Lady added. "She's lucky I didn't bite!"

"It's not just on the standard-gauge lines, either!" said a little gray diesel named Frank. "That Boomer fellow says Sigrid and I aren't proper engines! Can you imagine that?! We may be the SIZE of toys, but since when did a toy ever want to be really useful? Never! A toy's meant to NOT be really useful with!"

"Well, except for the development of certain skills," a tiny black diesel shunter commented.

"Shut up, Blister I!"

"Even _I_ don't like these inspectors!" Paxton said crossly. "And I like a lot of things!"

"Yes, Paxton, you're an adorable cinnamon roll," Nick said dryly. "All of what you say is no doubt valid. Now, I have no experience with this inspector, but tomorrow I am bound to. I will take your complaints under advisement and this time I WILL report them to Topham."

"What do you think he'll say to you?" Dart asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know. But whatever it is, I'll need to think up a decent comeback."

* * *

The next morning and the "inspectors" continued to be awful to the engines, their leader most of all. "Are you SERIOUSLY wasting time welcoming a newcomer?" Boomer, riding on the front of the SW900, scowled at Rosie, who had been talking to the new HST sisters, Pip and Emma.

"We want them to feel at home," Rosie retorted, "and a happy engine is a useful one."

"Nope, not gonna fly! Take notes!" he barked to his associates. "Now let's check out the Dieselworks!" And they left.

"...Is it normally like this?" Pip asked incredulously.

"No, it isn't," Rosie replied sheepishly. "Sorry, you've just caught us at a very bad time."

"We understand," Emma said. "But seriously, that man is rubbing my gears the wrong way."

"You and me both, sister," Pip replied angrily.

* * *

Boomer arrived at the Dieselworks. "Service THIS one this time!" he bellowed. Den and Dart hastily complied and pulled the SW900 inside as he got off.

"We're lucky this has buffers," Dart mused.

"And bring me the leader of this joint!" Boomer added.

"Yes?" Nick asked, suddenly appearing behind him. Boomer jumped, fell on his back, then scrambled up to his feet.

"What are you, a freak of nature?"

"I'm for maintenance of way duties and anything else that needs help."

"Yeah, well, that claw isn't earning you any brownie points, Diesel Ten!" Boomer wrote something down. "For all I care, you're just one of the dozens of dumb machines on this crapsack of an island. Alright, I'm outta here. Someone call me a cab!"

As Boomer trudged off, Nick growled. Then he realized something. "How did he know that moniker? No one ever mentioned it to him, and I've been going by my actual name for quite some time now."

His driver tapped his control panel. "Yes, he might've just read my story in the news, but he seemed to...actually know me from before. Lady DID say her driver met him back in the States..." He shrugged. "I'm probably just paranoid."

* * *

But he should've been paranoid for a very different reason. Boomer to himself was smiling. "This time, I WILL finish you," he chuckled darkly. His writing wasn't notes on what was bad about the NWR; it was a list of names and numbers of the Lifer population on Sodor.

And it was steadily growing more complete.

* * *

That night, Sir Topham Hatt was addressing the Steam Team from his perch on top of Duck's water tanks. "As you know, our guests have...not been very polite to you."

"Understatement of the century right there, sir," Duck commented. "And I've almost been alive for one."

"Yes, thank you, Duck. Do not worry, they depart in two days. But the other controllers and I are having a meeting tomorrow to discuss what they've been doing. As well as who shall be going to the 2022 Great Railway Show."

"Regarding the latter, I don't think I want to be streamlined again," Gordon groaned at the memory.

"Very well, Gordon. Take care, all of you."

As Hatt left, the engines grimaced. "That P. T. Boomer, that P. T. Boomer. I do not like that P. T. Boomer," James growled.

"What bothers me is why he's doing this," Percy said. "If he hates Lifers that much, why inspect an island crawling with them? Which brings up another good question: how in GWR 1340 or whoever it is that I'm based upon are we even _alive_ at all?"

"Legend says that the first Lifer was made from something that fell from the sky," Henry said, causing Emily, Rosie, and Thomas to stiffen. "And because of her, we have life too. But it's probably just a story made to keep young engines from misbehaving."

"You're probably right, Henry," Gordon agreed. "I swear, that man is up to no good and may be after our frames. And if he is...well, I don't want to say I'll run him down, but–"

"There's no need to," Edward said, tranquil fury in his voice. "Because I think I speak for all of us when I say, if he turns out to be one of those people who wants every vehicle's head on a silver platter, or even their leader, then for the sake of all Lifers everywhere we'll _all_ want him gone." And the roundhouse was angrily silent for the rest of the night.

* * *

 **You know you've done goofed when Edward hates your soul.**

 **Maybe the engines aren't as dumb as Boomer thinks they are. For his dark and twisted backstory is coming to light, and they're piecing the clues together. What will the controllers have to say about this? Who will find out about Crana next? And will Henry follow the rest of the Three Big Engines and make a Dr. Seuss reference?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Controllers of the Board!**


	24. Controllers of the Board

"Wait, wait. YOUR driver and MY driver _both_ have the day off?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mm-hm. Why they decided today of all days, I don't have a clue," Lady replied. "Maybe this'll be a good opportunity to get used to some new hands. I mean, humans don't live as long as we do."

"Valid point, but last I heard we're both cooped up in my shed." He looked at her. "So you met your old buddies?"

"I sure did!" Lady chuckled sadly. "There was some...news. Last Connor and Caitlin knew, Kim, Miley, and Taylor actually started behaving better and are a bit sorry about scorning Cressida's death."

"How did THAT happen?"

"Well, with a total of 4112 GP9s ever built, 2267 of which are Lifers, it was only a matter of time before they had a run-in with one of her siblings. And from what they've told me, Marissa has QUITE a temper."

"Lemme guess, she's New York Central? I remember Yolanda mentioning that they were easily triggered, though maybe that's just because Yolanda herself is from the Pennsy and they hate each other."

"Didn't they merge in '68 though?"

"It didn't last though, they fell apart two years later."

"Right, right."

* * *

While they were talking, a group of people were gathered in Sir Topham Hatt's office in Knapford. Peregrine Percival, controller of the Skarloey Railway, Cable Railway, and Culdee Fell Railway. Fergus Duncan, controller of the Arlesdale Railway. Esther Mayberry, controller of the Peel Godred branchline. The Minister of Sodor, Marcus Langston. Lady Hatt. Burnett Stone.

"Right, now we just need to wait for Charles Hatt," Topham said.

"Charles who?" Burnett asked in shock. "Because the only Charles Hatt _I_ know is dead!"

"My SON, Charles Hatt II."

"Oh, right. Sorry!" The door opened. In stepped a man who looked much like Topham, only he had thin black hair and wasn't as fat. He was also noticeably younger, the youngest person in the room in fact.

"Goodness, I haven't been here in ages!" Charles II said in awe. "But my time as an accountant is mere training for life as a controller."

"Good to see you too, son," Topham said, smiling before his expression changed to a frown. "Now then. We have two issues to discuss today. First and foremost, this inspection."

"If one can even call it that," Fergus grumbled. "It's less an inspection and more an excuse to bully us! You wouldn't believe the insulting things they've said about my railway being boring!" He scoffed. "Toy trains indeed!"

"And they made Peter Sam cry when they told him it was his fault most of his friends from the Mid-Sodor Railway are dead!" Mr. Percival added furiously. "Honestly, what kind of people are they?"

"Mr. Stone says he has met Boomer before," Topham said. Burnett nodded to confirm it. "And he says that Boomer hates Lifers with a burning passion. Says they go against God or whatever claptrap. Rumors have begun circulating amongst the engines that he's involved with the Anti-Life movement, which I hate to say is highly likely."

"It DOES make sense," Langston admitted. "Why he wanted catenary lines? To give his electric engines free run of the place. Those notes? He's recording the names of the engines, and perhaps others still. And why would he exclusively search for engines that have never been brought to life unless he discriminates on that basis?"

"Well in that case, we're going to have to keep a close eye on Boomer and his lackeys until they depart," Mr. Percival said. "What was the OTHER business, Topham?"

"The 2022 Great Railway Show. Sodor didn't do so well in the last one, so this time we'll choose our participants more carefully. Pip or Emma could do the race itself, since they ARE some of the fastest diesels in the world."

"And if they win or at the very least get close to winning, then the fleet will trust them better," Lady Hatt mused.

"Precisely. For shunting, Thomas got very close to the win in 2016, so he's getting another go at it this year. I'd have Duck, but the Little Western only has him and Oliver and I can't really spare either. That's as far as I've gotten."

"If I may, Toby may do well for the decorated engines parade," Charles II offered. "Steam-powered tram engines are very rare these days, especially wooden ones. We could paint his sideplates NWR blue with intricate designs or something."

"Capital idea!"

"Murdoch would be good for Strength, but he doesn't like loud noises," Mr. Percival noted. "So perhaps we get someone else. What about Arthur?"

"Maybe. He deserves a fair chance, after all. That leaves Teamwork, the new competition they've established."

"I've helped a bit with the arrangements, and though I can't say much, I _do_ know that the load involved will be stone, and the obstacle course puts the other four events together," Charles II revealed.

"A combination of shunter and big hauler would be great," Mrs. Mayberry agreed. "Perhaps Percy and BoCo, or Jouleia and Henry. Wait, scratch the first one, it's supposed to be mixed-sex. Right?"

"Actually, _I_ have a much better idea."

The board jumped in their seats. Slinking into the doorway was Diesel Ten's driver.

"Huxley Jagger?" Topham asked in shock. "You're... _speaking_?!"

"That's right, I got tired of keeping quiet. I believe _my_ engine and Lady would be best suited for the Teamwork competition."

An understanding silence fell on the others. "Yes, they would, they're incredibly high-performing given their designs," Mr. Percival said.

"And they both possess the highest mental maturities of any engine on Sodor," Lady Hatt agreed. She grimaced. "Whatever are they _teaching_ the engines in America?"

"Survival," Huxley replied. "We don't beat around the bush about how cruddy the world is. How death is always around the corner setting up its tripwires. Having so many engines still mentally in their early teens is a rarity back home, because they have a lot more experience with death than your lot. After all, the Blitz never came to Sodor, and only Gordon has seen a tiny scrap of the horrors of war in person.

"But Nick? He's physically thirty-eight and his mental state is right at that level. Lady's physically forty and mentally thirty-five. The next most-mature engine, Duke, is only mentally twenty-seven, despite being over twice their ages, and Duke has lost like they have. But Duke hasn't ever really _seen_ death, has he? He's never run someone over, much less multiple people; he's never been physically tortured by narrow-minded, petty humans; and he certainly hasn't seen the love of his life be slaughtered right before his very eyes.

"Seeing death is a sobering experience, Lifer and human alike. But for a Lifer, being in tune with your own mortality is how you age mentally. Thomas may know a lot of things, but he's still mentally a child and retains that cavalier attitude that he can't die. Even Stephen has it a little for he wasn't brought to life until _after_ the world's first death by train. Finally shedding that attitude ages a Lifer past the age of thirty and into true adulthood."

"And what brings _this_ on?" Topham asked.

"Well, I believe Nick's recollection of Cressida's passing may have caused most of the engines to grow up a year or two. James is less arrogant than usual, for example. The other is that before we came back, apparently one of the inspectors mouthed off about how Paxton was a baby."

Topham sighed. "I know, Huxley, we discussed that before you arrived." Then his eyes widened. "Wait. There's an ulterior motive, isn't there?"

"Of course there is. Remember Cressida's dying wish? Don't you want to help Nick fulfill it?"

"As a matter of fact, I _have_ without even realizing!" Topham said suddenly. "If it weren't for me asking Lady to organize Nick's fuel train, they wouldn't be where they are now! And right now, they're close to becoming a couple!"

"So the Teamwork competition would push them even closer together," Burnett said fondly. "Even if they don't win it, they'll have each other as a consolation prize."

"That settles it, then!" Lady Hatt smiled. "Lady and Nick are doing Teamwork. Pip's got the race. Arthur's doing Strength. Thomas on Shunting and Toby for the parade! And we'll all keep a sharp lookout for what those inspectors are up to."

"Meeting adjourned!" Topham said, standing up. "Thank everyone for your participation!"

And with that, a new plan was underway.

* * *

 **So now even the humans are trying to canonize Ladyten. Will they succeed? Will Huxley speak again? Will we actually get to SEE Marissa, ex-NYC #6063?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Words of Wisdom!  
**


	25. Words of Wisdom

It was the next day. "Lady, we're going to Blue Mountain to cover for Paxton, and then we're heading to Vicarstown for some switching," Burnett said.

"Sounds good to me."

As Lady puffed away, Billy and Dennis watched. "Well, you found out why Nick's so grumpy," Dennis said to the saddletank. "Now what are you going to do?"

"Continue being really useful, for one," Billy replied. "And maybe try to help him feel better. He _needs_ support, he didn't get enough when he should've."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

* * *

"Well, it's finally a relief to see someone who's smaller than me," Lady said as she entered the quarry.

"I suppose it is," Skarloey replied, chuckling good-naturedly. "I take it you have some experience?"

"From my time in the tunnel, yes. Say, did you know Bertram?"

"A little. He was Duke's brother." His tone had grown serious.

"How'd he die?"

"'Die' isn't really the right word for it," the crimson engine explained. "A long time ago during a terrific storm, a dam on Thomas' branchline collapsed. Toby barely escaped with his life. It reached the quarry, too, and the tunnel was completely flooded. When someone came to look inside it, Bertram had disappeared, most likely washed away by the water. His remains have never been found, so he's been presumed dead."

"No one could survive something like that," Sir Handel mentioned as he passed.

"Quite right," Skarloey agreed. "Anyway, you'll be pushing trucks through the tunnels. Mind Luke, he's a bit shy."

"I understand the feeling," Lady replied. "I don't like lots of people staring at me either." And off to work she went.

"Hope she's not bossy like Duck," Sir Handel muttered.

"Don't worry, from what I understand the Americans only have _one_ way of doing things," Freddie said as he arrived to take Sir Handel's trucks. "It only works about three percent of the time, sure, but they manage to make a living off it."

* * *

Thomas was busy shunting in Knapford Yard. "Thomas, what's the matter?" Philip asked.

"Oh, nothing, just...this inspection's got me feeling blue."

"But you ARE blue."

Thomas had to smile at that. "You're a good engine, Philip. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

"That's not gonna stop us, though," said a boxcar. Thomas shoved him out of the way and laughed sheepishly. As Philip left, Rosie and Emily approached him.

"Hey guys!" Thomas said. "How are Pip and Emma adjusting?"

"Slowly, but surely," Rosie replied.

"Yeah, they're good kids," Emily laughed. As soon as she was sure no one else was listening, she whispered "So what does she think?"

"She thinks there's a very good chance they are," Thomas whispered back. "As soon as the inspection ends tonight, we've got to make sure that _all_ of them have left. If even _one_ of them's still behind snooping around, then we're all in big trouble."

"On it!" Rosie replied.

* * *

Some time later, Lady was startled by a loud horn. "Oh my gosh, engines Beetle's size!" Lucy gushed as she entered the quarry. Ivo Hugh was intimidated by her and quickly scampered away.

"Hello there, uh..." Rusty began.

"Lucy of Peel Godred! I came here to get a little space, clear my cab and all that, get some slate to retile some roofs." She spotted Lady. "Oh! Hi there!"

"...I don't think I know you," Lady remarked.

"You do too! Don't you remember? 2000?"

It clicked. "You were there competing for the Golden as well?"

"Mm-hm! Competing for Sodor so I could bring attention to how wrong it is to kill a Lifer just for being old."

Lady had another thought. "So, uh, Lucy, why are you and Henry...y'know," she mumbled.

"Well, we aren't _technically_ a couple, but we both really like each other romantically and we both know it. When I first met him, there was just...something about him that drew me to him." Lucy sighed and continued.

"Lifers don't think the same way humans do by a longshot. No one knows _why_ that is per se, but maybe we were first designed by something that thought the way we do, I dunno. Anyway, normal human rules of romance meant that I could never have him. Because when we met I was physically thirteen, and he was physically sixty.

"Then I started to realize that that's just how old our _bodies_ were. Our minds were only about a year apart mentally: me fifteen, him sixteen and a little bit. And personality-wise? We both like nature, even though his has trees and deer and mine has rocks and lizards. We both share a lot of political opinions. It was just...such a relief that I wasn't the only person who thought the way I did.

"The aluminum works closed in 1980, so we all got shut up in our sheds. A year after, Henry had his terrible crash and became so afraid of everything. Only in 2018 did another vein of aluminum get discovered so we could resume operation. But...even despite that, Henry still loved me.

"THAT, Lady, is the definition of true love. You love someone so much, that even if you don't see them for a while, finding each other again makes you the happiest machine alive. Why do you ask?"

Lady blushed. "It's...embarrassing."

"Don't worry! Shame is for stupid people who can't see the good in the world."

"Well, alright then." She took a deep breath. "Nick...I think I like him. Like I liked Cressida. I...just want to pepper his face with kisses even though my bufferbeam won't permit that."

"EEEEEEEEEEE!" Lucy squealed, bouncing giddily.

"Hey, easy there girl!" Lucy's driver said, holding fast to her seat. "You're going to make me trainsick!"

"Oh, sorry Xiaoqing." The 86 calmed down. "Lady, I support you. When the time is right, tell him how you feel."

Lady sighed, letting off steam. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

* * *

 **One of them's figured it out now. How long until the other one does? What other narrow-gauge engines will I introduce? And will we get another song?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– The 2022 Great Railway Show!**


	26. The 2022 Great Railway Show

The last of the "inspectors" left on their boat. "Finally!" said a foreman to Sir Topham Hatt. "Now what do we do?"

"I know exactly what we're going to do!" Sir Topham Hatt replied. "Put up posters!" He walked over to a wall and, with some tape, hung up a poster advertising the Great Railway Show.

Salty noticed this and gasped with delight. "The Great Railway Show!" He promptly broke into song.

 _It's gonna be special! It's gonna be great! Off to the Mainland without coaches or freight._

* * *

Thomas, Rosie, and Emily joined in at Knapford Yard.

 _Please Sir, we beg you, we just have to know:_

 _Will you, won't you take me to the Railway Show?_

* * *

Arthur pulled into Knapford Station.

 _Take me, Sir, I'm fresh from restoration. And would love to prove my worth to my current nation.  
_

Sir Topham Hatt nodded, not wanting to break the news that he'd already decided on who was going. Gordon entered next and sang too.

 _I'm not sure if I want another try, but I must confess, this time we should not attempt that streamlining mess.  
_

"Yes, that's a very good idea, Gordon," his boss agreed. Toby entered next.

 _I know I'm kinda small, Sir, but I'm in no way green. Imagine when they see a tram who's powered by steam!_

Suddenly, he yelped, as Diesel roughly shoved him down the line and took his place.

 _You ought to take me, Sir._

Suddenly, he was interrupted by a very stern-looking Pip.

 _No Diesel, we aren't going to fall for your tricks!_

 _And you haven't been revolutionary_

 _Since 1986!_

Diesel's jaw dropped at what she said. Gordon, Arthur, and Toby looked at the younger diesel in admiration.

* * *

Elsewhere, Percy, Donna, and Mavis sang.

 _It's gonna be special, it's gonna be great,_

 _Showing the world that Sodor really can pull its weight._

* * *

In the Clay Pits, Bill, Ben, BoCo, Edward, Marion, Derek, and Timothy sang.

 _Please Sir, I beg you, you must tell me so:_

* * *

Duck, pulling Alice, Mirabel, Dulcie, and Isabelle, came next.

 _Will you, won't you take me to the Railway Show?_

* * *

Across the world, engines sang.

 _Etienne, French SNCF BB 9004: Fast engines!_

* * *

 _Shane, Australian SAR 520: Long engines!_

* * *

 _Venla, VR Tve2: Tough engines!_

* * *

 _Frieda, DB Class 10: Strong engines!_

* * *

 _ _Gaspar, Buenos Aires Underground 300: Magnificent engines!__

* * *

 _ _Gina, FNM Class 200: Significant engines!__

* * *

 _ _Ohwonigho, Abuja-Kaduna CDD3B1: Eloquent engines!__

* * *

 _Muffle Mountain's Reba, Reading T-1; Hippo, PRR I1s; Deb and Flo, New Haven EY-2; Dash, EMD FP7; and Albert, GMD GMD1: And intelligent engines!_

* * *

 _Mesa Roja's Vinnie, CNR U4a and Carson, UP P-13: Anyone who's any engine's eager to go._

"Wait, you want _me_ to go too?" a GATX tanker car asked Slim Lawson.

* * *

Back on Sodor, Mighty Mac dueted together by the Tunnel Runby:

 _So will you, won't you take us to the Railway Show?_

* * *

Molly, Murdoch, and Billy looked at each other as they worked on the Waterton branchline. Flora passed by and hummed along with her coach, Hyacinth.

 _It's gonna be special, it's gonna be grand,_

 _When we've finally put behind us the days on the Golden._

 _Can't wait to see the face that'll be on Mr. Kirkman,_

 _When we've won the show and then canonized Ladyten!_

* * *

Nick and Lady rearranged trucks at the Dieselworks.

 _It's gonna be loud, we may be overwhelmed,_

 _But we could pull it off without sadness at the helm._

 _Please, world, we're asking for a new chance, you know._

 _So will you, won't you take us to the railway show?_

 _Will you, won't you take us_

 _To the_

 _Rail._

 _Way._

 _Show?_

* * *

That night, Sir Topham Hatt's voice came over the radio. "Everyone, I have made my selections. Competing for Sodor will be Arthur for Strength, Toby for Best Decorated, Emma for the Race, Thomas for Shunting, and Nick and Lady for Teamwork. However, the race officials say that they want _all_ Lifers on Sodor to attend it. So we shall!"

"That does _not_ sound good," Crana muttered in her hiding place. "I must leave."

"Take me with you!"

Crana saw a Small England narrow-gauge engine who looked like Duke, only darker in color. "Bertram? You're not dead?"

"I'm only _mostly_ dead! I woke up about half an hour ago. The flood knocked me unconscious for all these years."

"Well, it's good that you're still alive, my child." Crana sighed. "But you aren't the right gauge, and not in shape either. I guess someone else may have to rescue us."

* * *

 **Plot twist! And the third song!**

 **So the show's about to begin, but Crana feels suspicious that all Lifers on Sodor might be in danger. How right will she be proven? How will the Sodor engines fare? And will Crana and Bertram escape?  
**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Departure!**


	27. Departure

**(AN: I made this story many moons ago, I'm just now putting it up. The following review of reviews is an addition to the original document).**

 **Only five chapters left before the epilogue!**

 **Chaoslord678, on our antagonist: Boomer's getting his karma eventually.  
**

 **TheWoosmann, on Daniella & the timeline: Thanks! And though you already know because I emailed you, for everyone else's curiosity satiation, the Daniella in the story _IS_ SynthaRoboto's OC!  
**

 **Boss Teal, on the Dr. Seuss reference: "A Lifer's a Lifer, no matter their fuel." Referencing "Horton Hears a Who!"  
**

 **Guest, on Sodor's first engines: Sodor's first engines resembled those built by Richard Trevithick. Being brought to life is only dependent on random chance (20% likelihood of happening) and not the material an engine is made of.  
**

 **P123: You'll see!**

 **And now, watch as it all comes to an end! ...Part one!  
**

* * *

A few days later, the engines were all packing up. "Say Gordon, Sir Topham Hatt already knew you didn't want to be streamlined again," James remarked. "So why'd you sing it?"

"I didn't want him to forget, now did I?" Gordon replied dryly.

"Oh."

"I cannot BELIEVE they want ME to go," Cranky, disassembled and placed into Troublesome Trucks, remarked as Henry, Lucy, Nikola, and Murdoch worked together to pull him.

"Me either," Henry agreed. "It doesn't seem right to me."

"Well, even if it isn't, we still get to show off our talents," Emily smiled. "And those who aren't participating get to spectate first-buffer!"

* * *

"Okay, that's the last of these purple guys," 'Arry said as he pulled the Culdee Fell engines into Vicarstown.

"Wow, what a marvelous place!" Eric remarked. "Man, I wish we had more variety at the mountains like this!"

"Me as well," Culdee agreed. "It _is_ nice to get a change for once."

"Too bad it's your only chance!" laughed Scruffey. Culdee bumped his insides. "Hey, hey, watch the planks!"

* * *

Eventually, all the Lifers on Sodor had left the island. Well, except for Crana and Bertram. They watched as the GG1 passed by with a rake of Lugg Pullman Class 60 C-4. To their shock, the coaches were filled with people. Jam-packed with people. People who did NOT want to be there.

"Oh no!" Bertram exclaimed. "They're rounding them up! But for...what?"

Crana gasped as it all fell into place. "I _knew_ it! The Railway Show is a trap! At the end of it the Anti-Life movement is going to slaughter all the Lifers in attendance and make everyone watch! They're going to use the show to establish themselves to the general public!"

"And if they don't turn all the world's Lifers in...then they'll go after the people," Bertram finished gravely. "We _must_ figure out a way to stop them."

"But how?"

"I can help you!" The two stowaways were surprised to see Charlie with a flatbed. "I snuck over her so I could say I'm sorry but no one was here. So I wandered around trying to hide from those big scary things, and next thing you know I could hear you guys! So I got a truck!"

Crana smiled. "And now, thanks to you, my son, I have a plan."

* * *

Elsewhere, the engines were filing away. "That's a big...thing," Norman said in awe. A massive contraption resembling a stadium with various elevators had been erected around the tracks the show was to take place on.

"I'll say," Nick grunted. "It's like the Golden's, but at least four times bigger! Long enough to pick up a WECX schnabel and tall enough to fit even the biggest hicube. More than enough to fit entire trains. How much did it _cost_ to build this thing?!"

"Alright, alright, everybody hustle in!" A blue Class 46 who stood outside the gates cleared his throat. "Everyone who's not participating goes into the lifts! Those who are, go to the back lot."

"That's my cue," Thomas said. "See you guys later!"

"Good luck, Thomas!" Rosie and Emily chorused. The six participants began to make their way over.

* * *

"What the? Oh _my Loewy_." Lady immediately stiffened. She turned her eyes and saw Kim puffing up to her. "Well well well, the purple twerp still thinks she stands a chance. And do you _honestly_ think those scars are gonna make kids like you?"

"Some kids," Lady sniped back. "And that's not my purpose anymore. I'm a switcher. A legitimate businesswoman. _You_ , on the other hand, still don't know what hard work really is, by the looks of it."

"Says the one who was comatose for fifteen years." A low growl came from behind Kim. She gulped as Nick rolled up next to her.

"Back. _Off._ " He continued on his way. "C'mon Lady, she's not worth your time."

"Oh, please, _another_ Cressida?"

"I should hope so." Nick snapped Pinchy's jaws. "I was her _husband_. And I _don't_ appreciate being a widower, nor do I appreciate those who scorn the unjustly killed. So do us all a favor, and if you aren't competing, _get out of our sight_." Kim whimpered and ran away. "Pfft. Coward."

"For all her blustering, she really is," Lady remarked.

"What da crap?!" came another voice.

"Took the words right from my mouth," Nick groaned as Vinnie suddenly appeared next to him.

"Heh, interestin' paintjob, Diesel Ten. Makes you look like a turd."

" _I_ think he looks like a bar of gold," Lady replied. "And he goes by Nick now."

"And you are? His girl or somethin'?"

The two misfits momentarily blushed before Lady shook herself out of it. "No, just his teammate. But hey, we still get more than you do."

"What do–" Vinnie groaned. "Aw, low blow, girlie!"

"I know."

"Vinnie, get moving! The sooner we get there, the sooner we can win." Vinnie sighed and puffed away, a dark gray USATC S100 taking his place. She had a long scar underneath her right eye and another slashed over her lips. "Nick."

"Caroline," he replied. "How's home?"

"Doing alright. Apparently one of Juan's brothers survived and went to Muffle Mountain."

"Juan?" Lady asked.

"EMC TA."

"But Mitch is an _E_ A...guess they're similar enough that they consider themselves brothers."

"I suppose so," Caroline shrugged. She puffed away. Eventually, all of the Sodor engines arrived at the meeting place for the competitors. Among them was a pink-and-periwinkle PRR T1.

"Sylvia!" Lady exclaimed.

"Oh! Hi Lady!" the T1 replied, her voice huskier than expected. "I wasn't expecting to see you here!" She winced. "Ooh, those scars. What happened?"

"Engine corpse fell on my head."

"Ouch!" Her eyes landed on Nick. "Oh, hey, weren't you Cressida's husband?"

"The only." He sighed.

"I know, I miss her too. She was a good kid, that Geep." Then she perked up. "But enough about the dark past! It's time to make a brighter future!" And she left to join the other racers.

"I don't wanna sound rude, but I thought all the living T1s were guys," Nick whispered to Lady.

"She was. Gender is a bit iffy for us because we don't have allosomes, but Sylvia used to be a Sylvester. Got her vocal cords reworked and a repaint after she found herself at Woodstock."

"Ah. Well, she's not me, so it's not my business, really." They moved on, finally grouping themselves with the other Teamwork competitors. Jamie whistled good luck to them.

* * *

"Let the games begin!" the show announcer boomed.

In the sidelines, P. T. Boomer smirked. "And let the age of the living machine _end_."

* * *

 **The past is coming back to the present. Who will compete for what? Who will win what? Who will get slapped upside the head with what?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Winner Takes Thrall!  
**


	28. Winner Takes Thrall

"For our first competition in our 20th ever Great Railway Show, the Strength Gauge! Six trains each of ten ex-Conrail and current Muffle Mountain Thrall 54' coil cars have been loaded to the brim with, well, steel coil!" The sixty Lifer cars stood stoically still. "Their brakes have been locked on as well. Our six competitors must pull them forwards beyond the red line a hundred feet away. Whichever one gets them beyond the line first wins! And let's see who's competing!

"A perennial Railway Show returnee is our first guest. He's been everywhere but shunting and he's coming back for another try at his first Strength trophy! He's a 4-8-4 Southern Australian Railways 520 Class, built 1943 and brought to life 1945. For Australia, Shane!" The teal tender engine smiled gratefully at the crowd.

"Next up is another returnee. Although given the events of the 19th show in 2016, it's debatable whether he's still beloved. Though he first worked in the US and still lives there today, he competes for the country who built him and operated his old turf. He's also a 4-8-4, this time a Grand Trunk Western U4a, built 1936 and brought to life 1951. For Canada, Vinnie!" Vinnie snorted indignantly.

"Our third returnee is definitely a fan favorite. Not only was she the first female competitor for the Strength competition, she's also the first female Lifer to win it! Though smaller than many of the boys, she's not afraid to stick up for herself. She may be her class' endling but she's not going down without a fight. She's a 4-6-2 Deutsche Bundesbahn Class 10, built and brought to life 1957. For Germany, Frieda!" Frieda smirked at the male engines.

"Now it's time for some new faces. He had a reputation on the LMS for two things: his love of fish and his law-abiding nature! Though there've been a few incidents that put some spots on his record in his new home, he still wouldn't give it up for anything. He's a 2-6-2 Ivatt 2MT, built 1947 and brought to life 1950. For Sodor, Arthur!" Arthur smiled.

"Diesel locomotives have been said to usually be inherently weaker than steamers. Our fifth competitor would like to challenge that assumption. When British Rail decided against diesel-hydraulics, his class was built to prove the worth of diesel-electrics. He's a C-C BR Class 47/4, built and brought to life 1963. For the United Kingdom, Wendell!" A blue Class 47 numbered 47419 with a yellow face smiled timidly.

"And lastly, you wouldn't expect much to come from Connecticut. But this guy is definitely something! The first in a long line of electric boxcabs operated by the New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroad, he's the oldest of our competitors here today. But hey, those cars are also American, and from his heritage line no less, so maybe he'll be used to them! He's a B-B New Haven EP-1, built and brought to life 1907. For the United States of America, New Haven!" The boxcab, painted the teal and white of male Muffle Mountainers, sighed.

Once they were all coupled up, "Begin!"

They all heaved and hoed. As predicted, New Haven had pulled heavy trains enough times to have the strength to clear the line first. "And New Haven gains his first trophy!"

"Not bad, mate," Shane said. "You've still got it and you're over a hundred!"

"I can run circles around a whippersnapper like you," New Haven replied wearily. "I'm just glad I got to be here. Electric engines keep getting ignored..."

* * *

"All right!" Hillary, Muffle Mountain's ALCO PA, whooped. "We got a trophy!"

"For once!" added a male 40' PS-1 boxcar also from that line.

"Wish it didn't need that old battery kit though," Miley scoffed. " _I_ could've done any of these!"

"Like switching?" the boxcar asked slyly.

"No!" She spluttered herself into silence.

"Nice one Rollo," Hillary smirked.

"Thanks."

* * *

"And now for the Best in Show competition! Six engines are going to parade themselves in front of our judges and they'll decide who they like best!

"First up is a familiar face. Steam died in most of the world, but China's vast untapped coal reserves mean he's still chuffing around in active service! He earned his showy colors for his bravery and he's not afraid to flaunt them! He's a 4-6-2 China Railways RM, built and brought to life 1960. For China, Yong Bao!" Yong Bao nodded graciously at the crowd as he cruised in front of the judges.

"Next up is a true veteran of the show. He's been in every one since the start and has racked up more trophies than most engines have wheels! He's always looking for a new way to surprise us, and I gotta say he's doing a great job! Right now, he's spreading awareness for better solutions to Mexico's poverty. Not afraid to be political, now is he? He's a 2-8-0 N. de M. GR-3, built and brought to life 1903. For Mexico, Carlos!" Carlos had been repainted maroon with "MORENA" written on his tender in white and surrounded by alebrije. The judges took note.

"Look at this, folks! I believe this is the first time this country has entered someone! He's by far our youngest competitor, but with youth comes a new outlook on the world! Can he shake things up? We'll see! He's a C-C Abuja-Kaduna CDD3B1, built and brought to life 2017. For Nigeria, Ohwonigho!" A six-axle diesel with green ends and white in the middle gratefully motored in. The white space was interspersed with traditional Nigerian art.

"Another new face, for anyone who's never read a book or seen a telly that is! He's been around a long time too, proving that this truly is the year of the vintage train! And he's the only one in oak, too! He's an 0-6-0T ex-LNER J70 tram, built and brought to life 1908. For Sodor, Toby!" Toby's skirting was now a rich cobalt blue with intricate silver swirlies.

"Another day, another diesel. But this is no ordinary diesel! British Rail had a reputation for breeding absolutely dreadful attitudes into their diesels, causing them to loathe steam engines with a racist passion. It didn't take for this guy, though; in fact, he even helped a steam engine who'd failed to the next station, then took on _another_ train that failed! While _he_ wasn't working right! He's a B-B BR Class 35, built and brought to life 1964. For the United Kingdom, Bear!" The diesel, dark green with white window frames and a yellow face, humbly drove in, his sides decorated with vivid scenes from tapestries.

"And lastly, our next guest has been through a lot. First a giant conspiracy destroyed many of his friends and family, then he was replaced by newer trams. But he didn't give up, and he got a new lease on life with a new engine and a permanent route! He's a B-B Septa PCC II, built 1947 and brought to life 1948. For the United States of America, Penn!" A sleek green trolley wheeled through, honking merrily.

The judges conferred with each other before one of them finally spoke. "We have chosen Ohwonigho of Nigeria as this year's winner."

A small section of the audience cheered. "Good job, _chico_ ," Carlos said gratiously to the newcomer. "You've put your home into _la historia eternal_ now!"

"I know!" Ohwonigho agreed. _"Ọ mara oke mma!"_

* * *

"I think I know Bear from somewhere..." Henry remarked.

"Feh! Too many boys!" Lucy grimaced.

"I know, that _was_ weird."

* * *

"Ashima, shouldn't Rajiv be here too?" Thomas asked.

"He wanted to come, yes, but we haven't seen him for a while," Ashima replied. "It's very concerning."

"Yeah," Thomas said solemnly. "It is."

* * *

"And now for the highlight of our classic competition – The Great Race! Our six participants will race around a track specifically designed for this! To make things more fair, each one is the same length thanks to the magic of points. Now they'll _need_ to be fast if they're to survive!

"First up is the first subway engine to ever participate in a Railway Show event. He's also extremely young, but will this be enough to defeat his more experienced seniors? We'll see! He's a B-B Buenos Aires Underground Alstom 300 Series, built and brought to life 2015. For Argentina, Gaspar!" A dark gray-and-yellow electric engine, separated from the remainder of his trainset, smirked.

"Next is a more familiar face. Lifers are known to playfully tease their friends, and he's raised it to the level of an art form! But he always makes sure that people know that's he's just being a good sport. So much so that he doesn't care if he wins or loses today's race! He's a 4-4-2 NMBS Type 12, built and brought to life 1939. For Belgium, Axel!" Axel smiled broadly.

"And here comes Axel's closest friend from another country! He's the first railway vehicle to reach 200 miles per hour and the Great Race's first electrically-powered competitor! He too is a gentlemanly sort, and he too is the last member of his two-unit class left, but can he win over the British? We'll see! He's a B-B SNCF 9000-series, built and brought to life 1954. For France, Etienne!" Etienne sparked his pantographs and beamed.

"Our next competitor is one of the NWR's newest additions to its fleet. She and her twin sister Emma were queens of British high speed transit, but after being obsolesced they sought a new life in the world's greatest haven for Lifers. Can she earn her place among her new shedmates? She's a B-B BR Class 43 HST, built 1977 and brought to life 1983. For Sodor, Pip!" Pip took a deep breath in.

"Speaking of Sodor, last year one of its engines attempted to one-up his brother! Though it didn't work, the two brothers rekindled their bond because of it. That brother is here today to stand for the bonds between all Lifers, big or small, powered or unpowered. He's a 4-6-2 ex-LNER Gresley A3, built 1923 and brought to life 1925. For the United Kingdom, Flying Scotsman!" Scotsman winked to Gordon in the audience.

"And rounding up our racers is truly a unique locomotive. She's one of the world's last remaining duplex locomotives, and she's got one of the most unique driving systems of any steamer, so much so that in the early days it caused her problems. Before we begin the race we must note that Lifers are actually quite rare, for only a fifth of all of the vehicles ever built will come alive. Even rarer than that are LGBT+ Lifers which, like humans, only make up 3.8% of their total population. But nonetheless we're bound to run into at least one, and our friend here is the first transgender entry in the Great Railway Show. She's a 4-4-4-4 ex-PRR T1, built and brought to life 1946. For the United States of America, Sylvia!" Sylvia whistled a deep, booming sound that startled many of her competitors.

"Begin!"

It was truly a spectacle to behold as the engines whizzed past each other, trying to one-up each other without crashing. And after some time...

Sylvia pushed herself to the finish line. "Whoo!" she panted.

The crowd went nuts. "And just like that, Sylvia becomes the first transgender Lifer to win a Railway Show event and snags Muffle Mountain another trophy!"

* * *

"You seem...bothered by something," Billy said, noticing the looks on Connor and Caitlin's faces.

"Yeah, Sylvia's from our old railway," Connor said. "We're happy that she won, she earned it..."

"But we wish Sodor would win something," Caitlin finished. "Like, on our own merit."

"Hey, we've got the ultimate diesel and shunter on our side. What could top that?"

* * *

"With the race itself done, it's now time for some shunting. Each shunter must assemble a train consisting of three vans, three tankers, three flatbeds, and a brakevan. Sodor has graciously lent some of its Lifer rolling stock for the event."

"Graciously my backside!" a tanker complained.

"Our first competitor is the 19th show's shunting winner. She was meant to be built meter gauge, but a slip-up in the notation on her blueprints led to her being built standard gauge. Because of that, she wound up on the Indian railway, where she was often bullied. One day, she found out what enlightenment really meant for her, and has taken to spreading that message ever since! She's an 0-8-2T Nilgiri Mountain X class, built 1953 and brought to life 1957. For India, Ashima!" Ashima smiled.

"Another familiar face is our next competitor. She's also the oldest engine to ever compete in the Show! Working in Italy for many years before her 1965 withdrawal, she's seen it all; she even took Mussolini for a ride! She didn't support him, before you ask. Can our old girl keep shining like the gem she is? She's an 0-4-0T Ferrovie Nord Milano Class 200, built 1883 and brought to life 1888. For Italy, Gina!" Gina huffed.

"Our third entry is a good old chum of ours. Although his homeland...really isn't. Especially given what it did to America in 2016. Nonetheless, he's given his all no matter what, and in our eyes, THAT is a much better justification for letting him come than keeping him out! He's also extremely friendly and well-spoken. He's a C Russian Railways TGM23BE, built and brought to life 1964. For Russia, Ivan!" Ivan laughed before putting on a comically serious face.

"And our fourth and final old face is our other winner for shunting in 2016. For a different reason! He kept Vinnie from trying to injure one of his friends and helped Ashima win, netting him an honorable mention trophy! Can he, with his abundance of historical shenanigans, earn one for real? He's an 0-6-0T ex-LB&SCR second-series E2, built 1916 and brought to life 1960. For Sodor, Thomas!" Thomas grinned cockily.

"Well, our fifth competitor isn't exactly a new face, but she's only appeared in two Shows before. But her resume is _much_ more impressive than that: she competed in the 2000 Golden Railway's Induction Contest! Imagine that! She's a C Statens Järnvägar Class U, built 1934 and brought to life 1956. For Sweden, Elsa!" Elsa gulped.

"And rounding out the show is an actual new face! The United States is known for big locos; why, even the tank engines there tend to be giants compared to us Brits! That means that America rarely enters an engine into the Shunting competition. But the Mesa Roja heritage line has, with a war veteran who survived a grenade to her _face_! Wow! She's an 0-6-0T USATC S100, built and brought to life 1942. For the United States of America, Caroline!"

"I hope you're watching, little sister," Caroline said as her eyes landed on Rosie. "This is what we do back home."

* * *

"Uh, _duh_! I used to _live_ there!" Rosie retorted.

"You don't have a good relationship with your sister?" Emily asked.

"Eh, she's just too...competitive at times. You get used to it."

* * *

Indeed, Caroline did dash about, trying to collect her cars before anyone else. Unfortunately, she was used to heavier American cars, so oftentimes her bashing made them skid too far.

"Gina wins Shunting!" the announcer boomed when all was done.

"Gah..." Caroline groaned.

"Hey, don't wor-ry, _ragazzo_ ," Gina said good-naturedly. "I was much like that when I was young too."

"I'm _eighty_ ," Caroline deadpanned.

"Oh...right. Well, there is always next time!"

"Not if we can help it," an Anti-Lifer said in the background.

* * *

Having finally arrived Charlie sniffed the air. "I feel tired..."

Bertram gasped; Charlie's voice was deeper than usual. "Charlie, hold your breath! If you fall asleep we'll be goners for certain!"

"Uh...okay." Charlie did so and they scooted out of sight.

Crana noticed the various canisters the Anti-Lifers were moving around. "Those cans," she said. "What are they?"

"Those, my queen, contain sulfur hexafluoride. It's an extremely effective Lifer anesthetic, usually used to knock us under so we don't feel them fixing major injuries."

"I see. And I suppose this bizarre machine has something to do with them?"

They witnessed a canister being affixed to the stage. "I do believe so. When the show ends they're going to release that gas and knock them unconscious...and then the killing begins."

But little did anyone notice that Sylvia, returning from a coal hopper to become a spectator, was so large that she knocked up against one of the feed pipes for the gas, which broke.

* * *

 **Only one competition left. Which countries will have entered some chumps? Which won't? Will this be when Ladyten is canonized or will you keep having to wait?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Felled Truth!  
**


	29. Felled Truth

"Alright everybody, welcome to the first-ever Teamwork Competition! Once we've introduced everyone we'll be detailing just what exactly our newest event holds in store!

"These two were originally Russian gauge but were regauged since. And gauge in fact determines their lives somewhat! He was meant to go to Estonia but when they converted to standard gauge got shipped off to Finland instead. She was built to be more efficient than her predecessor class, but wasn't quite strong enough. But they've been preserved nonetheless! He's a 4-6-4T VR Class Pr2, built and brought to life 1941; she's a B VR Class Tve2, built and brought to life 1962. For Finland, Henschel and Venla!" A big black tank engine and a tiny red diesel stood stoically still.

"Our next two are firm friends, having worked heavy freight together back when they were in active service. He was here during the Strength competition last year, and this year let her tag along! The regauging process was actually less painful for them than it was for most Lifers! He's a 2-8-2 Japanese National Railways Class D51, built and brought to life 1936; she's a B-B+B-B Japanese National Railways Class EH10, built and brought to life 1954. For Japan, Tadashi and Amai!" One of Hiro's brothers and a long black electric engine bowed to the audience.

"Life is hardly fair, that's well-known. But these two know it better than anyone else here. From being bullied, to losing the woman they loved, to being misrepresented, they've seen hardship like no Lifer should. Yet they've come through with flying colors. Two single-member classes. Two Lifers with the engine equivalent of high-functioning Asperger's syndrome. Two Americans who look like Brits. Two engines of the Golden Railway. Two victims of the same scandal. Two engines affected by the death of the same engine. Two halves of the same coin. One amazing story. He's a B-B EMD Class 42 1/2, built and brought to life 1984; she's an 0-4-0T Baldwin Class 101 1/2, built 1972 and brought to life 1982. For Sodor, Nick and Lady!" The two flinched at the unexpected cheering.

"One of these engines actually _is_ a Brit! How'd she end up in Switzerland, you may ask? Her village needed an engine, and she needed to live. It was a win-win until she got hurt and damaged her eyes. He let her see a whole new world. Fun fact: of the six teams here, these two are the only ones who are actually romantically involved! Officially speaking, that is! He's a 1-C+C-1 Swiss Federal Railways Be 6/8, built 1920 and brought to life 1942; she's a 2-6-0 ex-Lancashire  & Yorkshire Railway Class 28, built 1910 and brought to life 1935. For Switzerland, Zap and Jamie!" The two grinned goofily.

"England has built a _lot_ of experimental engines. He knows this very well; he used to be a gas turbine before he was converted into an electric locomotive! And she was rebuilt with a new signalling system to better meet international standards. Can their upgrades net them a win, though? He's an A1A-A1A BR Class 80, built 1951 and brought to life 1959; she's a C-C BR Class 97/3, built and brought to life 1961. For the United Kingdom, John and Sally!" A black electric engine and a yellow diesel nodded to each other knowingly.

"And lastly, we have two misfits. He was often bullied for his muteness, but never let that stop him, and he continues to be an advocate for disabled Lifers to this day. She was the one who alerted the world to the mid-2010s scandal, where Amtrak planned to destroy ALL of her class, regardless of whether or not they were alive, to make room for the absolutely horrid ACS-64s. Both are heroes in their own way. He's a C-C Burlington Northern Santa Fe GE 8-40CW, built and brought to life 1992; she's a B-B ex-Amtrak EMD AEM-7, built and brought to life 1981. For the United States of America, Howard and Amelia!" A large orange diesel and a medium-sized silver electric engine with blue accents grimaced.

"So what are we going to test with this competition? A lot! First is efficacy. Each of the six teams must first fill ten trucks with stones from these hoppers. The hoppers are pressure-activated." The space under the hoppers was positively riddled with many tangled tracks. "Then, they must figure out how to get their trains across three obstacles: over a bridge, through a tunnel, and up a windy hill!" The bridge took them to the sea at the edge of the whole thing, down a subterranean tunnel, and back out again. "Whichever team manages to come back while losing the least cargo by weight wins!

"Begin!"

* * *

"Okay, I'm definitely doing this bit, you're too big," Lady said.

"I was just about to ask that. See if you can swoop through all of them so you don't have to wait," Nick replied.

"Great idea! Let the lady do her magic." They laughed at their injoke and she sped off to work.

"Ah, a mental challenge!" Sally sighed off to the side. "About time they had one of these!"

Howard honked in confusion.

"Shunting's agility! This one needs raw brain! Or...whatever it is that we have."

"I have _never_ been more grateful for our ability to comprehend all languages," Henschel said dryly.

* * *

Lady slipped underneath the hoppers, all of the trucks in front of her. Each time she went she filled them all a little bit. Using this, instead of sitting underneath them, put her and Nick far ahead of the rest. She put five behind each of them and they pushed off.

"Look at that! Lady put her pedal to the metal for this one! But oh, now that her technique's been exposed Venla's catching up with it!"

* * *

"Man, the Finns are _good_ ," Burnett remarked. Henschel and Venla had just finished putting their trucks together.

"Not as good as us," Lady replied. They stopped at the bridge, where there was a sign. "'One of these tracks is the most stable and will wobble the least. Therefore you will lose the least stone. Which track should you take?'"

"Hm..." Nick tapped the bases of each of the three lines with Pinchy. "Right."

"Right? You sure? That doesn't make much sense."

"It's based on how they vibrate. Left one tilts to the side, middle one buckles up and down. Let's move before they see us." The points switched them to the right and they moved off. Then the points reset.

The Finns were going fast to try and catch up, but in doing so missed the sign. The middle track bounced, and a rock fell out into the sea.

 _"Perkele!"_ Venla growled.

"AAAH!" Amai shrieked, causing the Finns to jolt, losing another five rocks. The Nipponians had chosen the left track and were rocking uncomfortably.

* * *

"Okay, tunnel time. We both stand a chance of suffocating our drivers, but you have less emissions than me, so _you_ drive," Lady said.

"Fine by me." She coupled up behind him and he sped through the tunnel, careful to ride smoothly.

* * *

"This is _so_ ours," Amelia smirked as she and Howard entered the tunnel. "Electric engines are _queens_ of the tunnels!"

"ZHE HILLS ARE ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE WITH ZHE SOUND OF MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUZHIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!" Zap sang as he raced past her, Jamie pulled behind him. A shower of gravel hit Amelia in the face.

"OW! Aw, come on! That wasn't even a good movie!" Howard laughed silently.

* * *

The Sudrians left it first. "Stick close to the hill, and we should split up. The less weight we're both pulling, the more likely we're gonna win," Nick said.

"What do you mean?"

"We're both faster with less weight. One of us will reach the finish line first that way."

"Oh, I thought you were saying you didn't like me."

"WHAT?! Lady, of _course_ I–" He paused. "...What's Boomer's ship doing over there?"

She saw it too. "Dunno, but we gotta move!"

So they did. It was then that the wind picked up, and they struggled to continue up. Well, Nick did. Lady's smaller size meant she had less to fight against.

Nick tailed her, right until they were only fifty feet from the finish line...but then a towering sycamore keeled over.

It triggered a flashback.

But then it triggered something else.

 **"NO!"** the Deep Voice roared. Nick sped up and _crunch_. The tree was in his claw.

"Holy mother of–" Lady gasped. "You...saved my life...thank you."

They continued on in awkward silence, Nick only able to think one thing:

 _I've lost one woman I loved to a tree. I don't need to lose another._

* * *

Later, the results were in. "The Sudrians arrived first, and with 201 metric tons of stone, they win!"

* * *

"Finally, we get something!" James remarked from the audience. "They did good, those crazy kids."

"And your sister placed second!" Percy added.

"She sure did! Hughes forever!"

* * *

Nick was still carrying the tree when he noticed something. He dropped it and moved it until its bottom was close to his face. His jaw dropped when he saw the conical, ragged end. "Everybody! This tree was _cut_ down!" The crowd gasped. "Now find me the idiot who did this!"

"I thought that'd be illegal, cutting down a tree without a permit," John remarked.

"But it's very similar to what's happened before." Alex suddenly appeared in the arena, approaching Nick.

"Alex?..."

"Hello, Nick. It's been twenty-five years too long. Interesting choice of livery, by the way." He laughed wistfully, then frowned. "Nick, there's been an...important development regarding Cressida's death."

"What kind of development?"

"It has to do with the tree that killed her. You see, the processing company we sent it to so it could be turned into lumber? Well, they charge more if they have to process roots in addition to all the rest. But In 2013, one of our accountants noticed that we didn't get a notice to _pay_ that extra fee. Lawson dismissed it, saying that we didn't have to pay them, so why should we care about some extra cash? But it didn't set right with us that we weren't doing the right thing.

"So we looked into it. Turns out they didn't process the roots. The tree _didn't have_ _them_ when they got it. We went to the site of the accident and saw its stump. It wasn't torn like it would've been had it rotted through and been blown off that fateful day. It was obviously very neatly cut, even with the years of growth." Nick's jaw dropped.

"We first thought it was just bad timing, or general stupidity, but then a more plausible explanation was realized by us diesels. It was that same year, 1997, that live machines started disappearing without a trace. And around that same time, whisperings of a dark cyclist prowling around, looking for victims, began to circulate. First on Union Pacific, then spreading to the rest of the country. Every now and then, something would appear on the internet, of people who _hate_ us for existing. Monsters.

"Her death was _never_ your fault, Nick. But now we know _whose_ it was. For Cressida's death was no accident:

"She was murdered by the Anti-Life movement."

* * *

 **Next chapter, an epic fight scene! How epic will it be? Will Boomer win, or will he lose? Will Crana reveal herself at long last?**

 **All this and more in the next chapter** **– Move!**


End file.
